The  World's  Greatest  Tragedy. 


"The  man  said  something  in  the  girl's  ear,  and  a  moment  later 
the  brass-studded  door  closed  behind  them."       (Page  45.) 
(Investigators  are  at  present  looking  for  the  girl.) 


FROM  DANCE  HALL 
TO  WHITE  SLAVERY 

The  W^orld's  Greatest  Tragedy 


Thrilling  stories  of  actual  experiences  of  girls  who 
were  lured  from  innocence  into  lives  of  degradation  by 
men  and  women  engaged  in  a  regularly  organized 
WHITE  SLAVE  TRAFFIC. 

Showing  the  evils  of  the  DANCE  HALL  with  the 
usual  saloon  or  bar  attachment  and  the  easy  steps  by 
which  young  girls  are  led  to  their  downfall. 

Based  upon  investigations  and  reports  made  by  a 
committee  of  prominent  women  appointed  by  the 
MAYOR  OF  CHICAGO,  to  help  fight  the  evils  of 
public  dance  halls  and  the  work  of  white  slave  traders. 

Showing  also  that  the  accursed  liquor  traffic  is  the 
means  by  which  the  horrible  white  slave  traffic  is  enabled 
to  secure  its  thousands  of  innocent  victims  and  flourish. 


These  stories  of  actual  occurences  are  told  by  conscien- 
tious men  who  have  taken  many  risks  to  secure  the  facts,  to  aid 
the  organizations  and  leagues  and  individuals  who  are  working 
earnestly  to  save  girls,  to  clean  out  the  vice  districts,  to  secure 
laws  that  will  punish  the  fiends,  both  men  and  women,  engaged 
in  white  slavery,  and  more  than  all  else  to  warn  fathers  and 
mothers,  and  through  them  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  land, 
against  the  dangers  and  pitfalls  which  are  spread  for  the 
unenlightened. 

Pradery  is  not  modesty.      Ignorance  is  not  innocence. 


BY 

H.  W.  LYTLE  and  JOHN  DILLON 

Investigators  for  the  Metropolitan  Press 


^ 


To  THE  Little  Women  of  America, 

with  abundant  faith  that  the  adult  readers  oi" 

this  book  may  rise  up  and  destroy  the  pitfalls 

that  evil  men  have  laid  to  ensnare 

your  innocence, 

This  Book  Is  Dedicated. 

JOHN  DILLON. 


COPTEIGHTBD    1912 

CHARLES  C.  THOMPSON  CO. 


SOME  OPINIONS 


"The  combination  of  the  community  dance  hall  and 
the  disorderly  saloori  is  one  of  the  mighty  factors  in  the 
ruin  of  our  young  girls.  We  cannot  afford  to  ignore 
this  evil  and  maintain  a  shred  of  self-respect." 

— MRS.  LOUISE  DeKOVEN  BOWEN. 


"The  dance  hall  evil  is  a  canker  that  the  community 
must  eradicate  to  save  its  future  generations." 

—JANE  ADDAMS,  HULL  HOUSE,  CHICAGO. 


"More  girls  enter  the  White  Slaver's  mart  through  the 
portals  of  the  disorderly  dance  hall  than  through  all  other 
agencies."  —  LESTER  BODINE,  SUPERIN'TENDENT*  OF 
COMPULSORY  EDUCATION,  CHICAGO. 


"The  Vice  Commission  found  the  low  dance  hall  one 
of  the  master  keys  to  the  Red  Light  District." — CHIEF 
JUSTICE  HARRY  OLSON,  OF  THE  MUNICIPAL  COURTS, 
CHICAGO.  

"The  solution  to  this  evil  is  the  properly  regulated 
social  dance.  Young  persons  must  and  will  dance.  If 
we  do  not  give  them  an  orderly  and  clean  place  where 
they  may  pursue  this  pleasure  they  will  go  to  the  low 
dives,  and  who  is  to  blame?" — DR.  J.  B.  McFATRICH, 
PRESIDENT  OF  THE  BOARD  OF  EDUCATION,  CHI- 
CAGO. 


THE  OBJECT 

The  object  of  this  book  is  to  save  our  girls 
and  boys  by  showing  them  where  the  snares  and 
pitfalls  are  in  the  paths  of  daily  life.  Some 
prudish  persons  frown  upon  handling  such  deli- 
cate subjects,  but  the  greatest  of  our  American 
magazines  have  printed  articles  for  many  months, 
written  by  leading  men  and  women,  in  an  earnest 
effort  to  induce  parents  to  enlighten  their  children 
on  the  very  dangers  which  we  here  portray. 
Most  parents  now  are  willing  to  agree  that 
ignorance  is  not  innocence,  and  still  they 
hesitate  to  enlighten  and  warn.  It  is  the  hope 
of  the  publishers  of  this  book  that  its  tragic 
portrayals  will  startle  all  parents  into  action 
and  that  the  reading  of  its  pages  may  assist  the 
noble  workers  enlisted  in  the  various  Law  and 
Order  Leagues  and  Purity  Associations  of  the 
whole  world  to  save  the  youth  of  our  own  land 
at  least. 

THE  PUBLISHERS. 


L 


\             ^  KNOWLEDGE    J^              ^ 

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How  to    ^^>^'        ^ 
Stamp                 o 

Out          KNOWLEDGE  ^ 

White     ^            1 

Slavery       ^^-^^ 

S  KNOWLEDGE 

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TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PA6B 

The  Dance  Hall  Peril 7 

CHAPTER  II. 

The   Tragedy   of   the   Girl   from   the 

Country 15 

CHAPTER  III. 

The    Tragedy    of    Stefa^    the    Little 

Immigrant 46 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Young  ^Iother 52 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Wall  Floayer  ....     67 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Tragedy  of  Valeska  of  Poland 82 

5 


6  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAQH 

A  Tragedy  En  Masque   105 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Telephone  Girl.  . .    124 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Factory  Girl  ....   133 

CHAPTER  X. 

At  the  Sign  of  the  White  Front 163 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A  Tragedy  of  Freiberg's 174 


FROM  DANCE  HALL  TO 
WHITE  SLAVERY 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Dance  Hall  Peril. 

IN  all  large  cities  the  two  agencies  operated  for 
commercial  reasons,  which  attract  the  great- 
est number  of  young  people,  are  the  theatre  and 
the  dance-hall.  It  is  inconceivable  to  suppose 
that  the  hurry,  hustle  and  bustle  of  the  industrial 
world  can  find  relaxation  and  amusement  exclu- 
sively, in  the  home  or  what  corresponds  to  it.  The 
girl  or  boy  works  by  day  in  an  atmosphere  of  the 
artificial.  By  night  when  his  or  her  time  is  not 
regulated,  amusement  must  be  sought  and  fomidj 
whether  natural  or  artificial. 

In  Chicago  it  is  estimated  that  approximately 
32,000  children,  a  majority  being  industrial 
units  in  the  working  machine,  attend  the  "nickel 
shows"  and  the  cheap  theatres  nightly.  The 
estimate  is  large  but  it  dwindles  into  insignifi- 
cance beside  that,  attendant  upon  the  popularity 
of  the  dance  hall  as  a  j)lace  of  amusement.    The 


8  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

dance  is  the  natural  relaxation  of  the  proletariat. 
An  evening's  average  of  86,000  young  people 
attend  the  dance  halls  of  Chicago. 

In  the  city  of  Chicago,  today,  flourishes  a 
commerciahzed  institution  which  has  its  menace 
for  every  phase  of  our  social,  civic,  domestic  and 
industrial  life.  The  Social  Evil  has  been  capital- 
ized at  $300,000,000 — admittedly  a  consei'vative 
estimate.  Commercialized  vice  renders  fabulous 
returns  on  this  hypothetical  investment. 

Commercialized  vice  is  not  troubled  with  the 
necessity  of  supporting  a  demand.  The  supply 
must  be  fostered. 

So  upon  the  altars  of  vice  in  the  city  of  Chi- 
cago, annully,  are  5,000  girls  offered  up  as  sacri- 
ficial victims  to  the  Social  Evil. 

These  five  thousand  tragedies,  differ  only  in 
circumstance;  tragedies  of  the  home,  the  shop, 
street,  factory,  or  office;  tragedies,  even  of  the 
churches,  and — the  instance  seems  to  apply  in  an 
overwhelming  majority — tragedies  of  the  dance. 

Investigation  of  the  Social  Evil  in  Chicago 
by  the  Municipal  Vice  Commission  and  the 
voluminous  report  compiled  as  a  result,  stands 
sponsor  for  the  statement  that  almost  75  per  cent 
of  the  girls — the  5,000  girls — ^^vho  are  annually 
sacrificed,  attribute  their  downfall  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree  to  the  public  dance  hall.  By  this 
is  meant  the  communitj^  dan«e  hall  when  affili- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  9 

ated  with  the  disreputable  saloon.  No  reference 
is  meant  to  the  properly  regulated  social  dance. 

On  November  13,  1910,  an  investigation  of  the 
public  dance  halls  of  Chicago  was  begun  by  the 
Juvenile  Protective  association.  The  investiga- 
tion was  concluded  March  9,  1911.  A  total  of 
278  dances  were  attended,  while  328  halls  were 
investigated.  The  results  of  this  investigation 
show  that  the  public  dance  halls  of  the  city 
are  "largely  controlled  by  the  saloon  and  vice 
interests." 

The  interests  of  the  dance  hall  have  in  a  major- 
ity of  instances  become  synonymous  with  those  of 
the  saloon,  and  back  of  both  lies  the  demand  of 
commercialized  vice  for  the  5,000  annual  victims 
that  must  be  secured. 

In  240  of  the  328  halls  investigated  liquor  was 
sold  in  the  halls,  which  190  had  saloons  opening 
into  the  halls  and  109  are  known  to  have  sold 
liquor  to  minors. 

The  remainder,  except  for  a  few  isolated  cases, 
gave  return  checks  at  the  door  in  order  to  facili- 
tate the  use  of  the  neighboring  saloons.  In 
practically  all,  the  identification  between  the 
saloon  and  the  dance  was  complete.  The  dance 
has  become  a  commercialized  corollarj^  of  the  evil 
which  requires  5,000  young  girls  annually  as 
victims. 

The  sale  of  drinks  to  minors,  both  girls  and 


10  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

boys,  is  a  general  condition  and  is  the  crux  of 
the  situation  as  regards  the  definite  perils  and 
evils  of  the  public  dance. 

Separated  from  its  cause,  the  effect  disappears, 
and  the  dance  hall  evil,  though  general  in  its 
effect,  is  specific  in  its  cause.  The  sale  of  liquor 
may  be  safely  proclaimed  the  cause,  for  in  such 
halls  as  have  absolutely  separated  their  dances 
from  the  saloon  interests,  the  entertainment  has 
been  found  to  be  quiet,  orderly  and  moral. 

Most  of  the  dance  halls  exist  for  and  by  the  sale 
of  liquor.  The  ostensible  purpose  of  dancing  is 
but  secondary  and  it  is  at  such  dances  that  the 
"procurers"  of  vice  do  their  greatest  work  toward 
enrolling  the  5,000  unfortunates  for  the  year's 
sacrifice  to  the  demands  of  immorality. 

It  is  one  of  the  commonplace  tragedies  of  the 
dance  hall  that  the  girls  average  between  fifteen 
and  nineteen  years  of  age,  while  the  boys  are 
between  sixteen  and  eighteen;  ages  at  which 
pleasure  is  demanded  with  all  the  eagerness  and 
as  one  of  the  prerogatives  of  youth. 

In  the  halls  where  liquor  is  sold,  practically  all 
the  boys  show  signs  of  intoxication  before  the 
middle  of  the  dance  is  reached,  probably  for  the 
reason  that  it  is  often  impossible  to  get  a  drink 
of  water  in  the  halls.  The  dances  are  short — four 
to  five  minutes,  with  brief  encores — ^while  the 
intermissions  provide  ample  time  to  spend  money 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  11 

purchasing  drinks.    The  dances  thus  degenerate 
into  mere  excuses  for  the  sale  of  liquor. 

The  waiters  and  employes  of  many  dance  halls 
are  suspiciously  ready  to  give  information 
regarding  the  location  of  disreputable  lodging 
houses,  often  immediately  contiguous. 

In  many  cases  the  use  of  the  dance  hall  prem- 
ises for  immoral  purposes  is  connived  at  by  the 
management. 

The  dances  themselves  may  be  divided  into  two 
general  classifications:  those  run  by  the  propri- 
etors of  the  hall  and,  in  most  cases,  of  the  saloons 
connected,  and  those  affairs  given  by  clubs  and 
societies. 

At  the  former  the  dangers  are  more  subtle. 
The  halls  are  cleaner,  better  order  is  kept  and  an 
assumption  of  decency  is  made,  but  such  resorts 
are  usually  gathering  places  for  the  professionals 
of  the  commercialized  institution  which  continu- 
ally demands  new  and  fresh  victims. 

Here  gather  the  professional  women  of  the 
street,  the  men  and  women  procurers  of  new 
recruits  and  the  crowds  of  young  men  who  go 
to  the  dances  for  the  especial  purpose  of  "picking 
up"  girls  for  immoral  usages. 

At  the  club  dances  disorder  often  prevails,  par- 
ticularly when  the  dance  is  being  given  in  con- 
nection with  any  saloon  or  liquor  interest.  Many 
of  the  clubs  are  clubs  in  name  only — organized 


12  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

for  the  purpose  of  making  money  from  the 
dancers. 

The  dances  are  advertised  by  posters,  but  more 
generally  by  "pluggers,"  vari-colored  cards  with 
the  dance  announcement  on  one  side  and  a  popu- 
lar song,  often  suggestive,  on  the  other.  The 
greatest  dangers  are  to  be  found  in  connection 
with  masquerade  and  fancy  dress  balls,  where  the 
costumes  often  permit  of  the  most  indecent  dress- 
ing and  where  prizes  are  awarded  for  the  best 
costumes. 

Prizes  usually  consist  of  cheap  jewelry, 
liquor,  perfume  and  cigars  donated  by  the 
neighboring  tradesmen.  A  barrel  of  beer  is 
usually  awarded  to  the  prize-winning  group  of 
men  and  a  dozen  bottles  of  wine  to  the  successful 
group  of  girls.  A  quart  of  whiskey  is  the  popu- 
lar prize  for  single  character  sketches. 

The  dances  sometimes  maintain  a  semblance  of 
respectability  until  midnight  has  been  passed, 
when  a  grand  scramble  for  the  bar  or  the  neigh- 
boring saloons  ensues.  The  effect  immediately 
becomes  generally  apparent,  although  operations 
as  a  rule  begin  earlier  in  the  evening.  The  men 
frequently  subject  the  girls  to  hberties  without 
interference  from  the  police,  ostensibly  on  guard 
for  just  such  occasions,  or  the  spectators. 

Immoral  dancing  is  one  of  the  most  sensual 
features  of  such  dances.    The  sJo-called  "grizzly 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  13 

bear,"  "railroad  round,"  "rocking  horse,"  eixi.,  ad 
infinitum,  as  danced  to  the  suggestive  music  of 
the  cheap  orchestras  that  provide  the  accompani- 
ment, are  the  open  evidences  of  vice. 

These  variations,  once  introduced,  ser\^e  for  the 
speedy  destruction  of  any  girl's  moral  sense.  The 
frequent  reference  to  them  in  the  newspapers,  as 
being  endorsed  by  Newport,  or  displayed  at  some 
great  ball  in  New  York,  has  had  a  tendency  to 
lead  imaginative  girls  to  look  upon  contortions 
in  the  dance  as  permissible,  whereas  they  would 
be  shocked  under  any  other  environment. 

It  is  this  thing  that  has  made  it  more  easy  for 
the  professional  procurer,  the  cadet,  the  pander 
and  the  White  Slaver  to  seize  upon  the  dance  hall 
as  his  stamping  ground. 

The  facts  set  forth  above  have  led  Dean  Sum- 
ner, chairman  of  the  Vice  Commission;  Mrs. 
Louise  DeKoven  Bowen,  of  the  Juvenile  Protec- 
tive League,  and  Jane  Addams,  of  Hull  House, 
to  make  a  vigorous  fight  on  the  dance  hall  as  the 
big  key  to  vice  in  Chicago.  Prolonged  study  has 
led  them  to  the  conclusion  that  the  vice  problem 
may  not  be  solved  without  careful  consideration 
of  the  dance  hall  evil. 

They  do  not  beheve  that  the  facts  should  be 
suppressed.  They  beheve  that  they  must  be 
brought  out  into  the  light  of  day.    The  facts  must 


14  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

be  facjed,  Tlae  evil  must  be  understood  to  be 
Gombatted. 

It  is  with  tJie  hope  that  some  mother,  whether 
she  be  a  Chiciigo  mother  or  one  from  the  mral 
districts,  may  know  the  evil  as  it  exists,  that  this 
book  is  pubhshed. 

To  brin^  home  more  vividly  the  perils,  indi- 
vidual cases  have  been  treated.  Each  is  from  the 
reooixis  of  the  dance  hall  evil  in  Chicago — from 
the  poHoe  blotters,  from  the  work  of  vice  investi- 
gators, from  the  memoranda  of  the  Juvenile  Pro- 
tective league.  Perhaps  a  name  or  an  address 
may  be  changed  in  some  individual  case.  But  in 
the  main  even  these  details  are  not  altered. 

The  stories  set  forth  a  few  of  the  5,000 
tragedies  that  are  enacted  annually  in  the  city 
of  Cliicago.  Each  one  is  a  separate  drama.  Yet 
each  one  might,  in  the  ultimate  terror  of  its 
results,  be  considered  as  representative  of  the 
5,000  annual  tragedies  of  girls  in  Chicago — 
girls  who  pass  into  Wliite  Slavery  through,  per- 
haps, the  portals  of  the  dance  hall. 


"Nonsense,  get  wise,  Ollie.     This  is  Malt  Tonic;   won't  hurt 

you  a  bit."     Then  she  hesitatingly  lifted  the 

glass.      (Page  20.) 


Childish  innocence  is  the  greatest  attraction  for  the  oldest  and 
most  dissolute  rake. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Girl  from  the  Country. 

ON  AN  evening  train  that  whizzed  through 
Irondale,  hesitated  at  South  Chicago  and 
stopped  for  a  reheved  gasp  of  featliery  steam 
at  Englewood,  Olga  came  to  the  city. 

The  circumstance  of  Olga's  arrival  was  noted 
only  by  a  hackman  on  Sixty-tliird  street;  noted 
and  then  forgotten  as  the  girl  manifested  her 
intention  of  boarding  a  street  car.  But,  among 
the  "South  End  Notes"  of  the  Goshen  (Ind.) 
newspaper  the  fact  that  "^liss  Olga  Hart  had 
accepted  a  lucrative  position  in  one  of  Chicago's 
largest  mercantile  houses,"  was  noted,  discussed 
and  dilated  upon. 

And  so  Olga  came  to  Chicago — or  rather  to 
South  Chicago.  It  was  on  Escanaba  avenue 
near  Eighty-ninth  street  that  she  finally  found 
the  aunt  with  whom  she  was  to  live. 

It  was  through  the  good  offices  of  the  self- 
same aunt's  husband,  Franz  3Iueiler,  the  "mer- 
cantile position"  had  been  secured.  Olga  had 
not  com'e  to  Chicago  merely  in  response  to  the 
indefinite  lure  of  the  city.  Parents,  friends  and 
relatives  had  all  insisted  that  the  position  be  ab- 

15 


16  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

solutely  secured  before  Olga  should  trust  her 
eighteen  years  of  inexperience  to  the  ways  of  the 
big  city. 

Numerous  were  the  letters  exchanged  between 
the  metropolitan  Mr.  Franz  Mueller,  who  was 
an  insurance  agent,  and  the  rural  Peter  Hart, 
of  Goshen,  Ind.  All  bore  on  the  question  of 
Olga's  metropolitant  prospects  and  it  was  only 
after  grave  deliberation  that  the  "mercantile  po- 
sition" received  the  paternal  sanction. 

At  the  home  of  her  aunt  Olga  found  that  the 
representations  of  Mr.  Mueller  as  regarded  her 
position  had  not  been  all  talk.  The  mercantile 
position  proved  to  be  that  of  stock  girl  in  "South 
Chicago's  leading  clothing  store,"  carrying  a  sal- 
ary of  eight  dollars  per  week,  which,  as  Mr. 
Mueller  explained,  "is  going  some  these  days 
when  the  kids  usually  pull  down  six  per — haps." 

Mr.  JMueller  was  a  large,  stout  man,  sportily 
inclined,  with  a  sort  of  counterfeit  geniality  that 
invariably  impressed  on  first  acquaintance.  As 
has  been  said,  he  was  an  insurance  solicitor.  Mr. 
Mueller  made  a  good  living  and  maintained  a 
comfortable  flat  on  Escanaba  avenue.  He  lived 
with  his  wife  and  a  man  boarder,  an  electrician, 
employed  in  the  steel  mills  of  South  Chicago. 
The  Muellers  had  no  children,  Mr.  Mueller  ex- 
plaining that  "kids  take  up  too  much  room  and 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  ir 

we've  got  onlj^  enough  for  ourselves  and  one 
more,  which  is  Pete  Hart's  kid." 

Mrs.  JMueller  was  a  small  woman,  nervously 
subdued.  She  seemed  afraid  of  her  husband  and 
started  at  every  move  on  his  part.  She  was 
Olga's  aunt  on  her  father's  side.  Mueller 
greeted  "the  little  country  kid"  effusively,  ex- 
plaining that  he  whiled  away  the  intei'val  be- 
tween trains  "with  a  few  drinks  at  Pernod's." 
Under  the  influence  of  the  "few  drinks"  his  first 
acquaintance  good  humor  expanded  until  noth- 
ing became  too  good  "for  the  pretty  milkmaid 
Pete  Hart  sent  us." 

Pressed  for  details  as  regarded  the  "mercan- 
tile position,"  Mr.  JNIueller  described  the  situa- 
tion as  the  "goods."  Further  than  that  he  as- 
sured Olga  that  her  good  looks  would  secure  her 
rapid  promotion. 

"The  only  thing  you  need  now  is  the  "scen- 
ery,' "  he  declared,  after  a  glance  that  revealed 
the  rural  simplicity  of  her  attire,  "and  it's  me 
for  togging  you  out  for  a  winner.  We'll  hit. 
Commercial  avenue  after  dinner  and  grab  off  a 
new  dress  for  you  that'll  make  that  'Way  Down 
East'  get-up  look  like  a  hunkie's  paycheck." 

"But  I  can't  afford  it  just  now,"  said  Olga, 
secretly  flattered. 

"Now,  nix  on  that  stuff,  kid — Olga — we'll  call 
you  Olhe.     This  is  on  me  and  I'm  putting  tliis 


18  FROM  DANCE  HAJLL 

thing  over.  We'll  get  the  layout  and  then  after 
you  start  to  work  you  can  give  your  aunt  a  few 
nickels.  We'll  call  it  square  and  that  goes.  You 
can  go  to  work  Monday,  this  is  Friday,  and  if 
you  don't  like  the  job  quit  and  we'll  get  another 
one  for  you. 

"The  stunt  for  you  is  to  keep  your  eyes  open 
and  grab  some  good  lad  with  a  lot  of  class ;  work 
him  for  the  dances  and  the  shows  and  get  hooked 
up  in  a  year  or  so.    Do  you  dance?" 

"Wliy,  yes,"  said  Olga,  rendered  breathless 
by  the  prospect  of  getting  hooked  up  in  a  year 
or  so.  "I  was  leader  of  the  class  in  waltzing  in 
the  high  school  down  home." 

"That'll  do  for  a  start,  but  you  want  to  get 
wise  to  the  Boston  dip  and  the  'Rockin'  Horse' 
gallop  if  you  get  by  with  the  stuff  here  in  Chi," 
continued  Mr.  JVIueller,  oblivious  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  "getting  by"  with  very  little  of  the  slang 
phrases  that  were  an  integral  part  of  his  genial 
moods. 

So  Olga  listened  to  the  advanced  preachments 
of  the  metropolitan  Mr.  Mueller  while  her  aunt 
anxiously  watched  the  country  girl's  face  for 
evidence  of  their  effect. 

"You're  a  pretty  little  kid,  but  awful  raw," 
concluded  JNIr.  Mueller,  frankly,  as  the  boarder 
entered.  "I'm  going  to  educate  you  a  bit,  Ollie, 
and  if  I  don't  put  you  on  easy  street  it'll  be 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  19 

because  you've  got  less  looks  and  I've  got  less 
brains  than  I  tkink  at  present." 

The  boarder,  a  well-built  young  man  of  per- 
haps twenty-three  years,  entered  into  the  con- 
versation with  a  wink  at  his  host  and: 

"How's  things,  Mueller?" 

"No  kick,  George.  Meet  my  niece.  Miss  Ollie 
Hart,  who's  going  to  live  with  us  for  a  while. 
OUie,  Mr.  Richert." 

"Delighted,  Ollie,"  responded  George. 

"Ollie"  stiffened  a  trifle.  The  boarder  smiled 
agreeably  and  overlooked  what  Goshen  might 
have  considered  impertinence. 

"George"  had  a  "way  with  the  ladies"  and  evi- 
dently saw  in  the  "country  kid"  fresh  field  for 
conquest.  The  boarder  applied  himself  to  the 
task  of  making  a  "hit"  and  by  the  time  dinner 
was  served  had  established  himself  in  the  opinion 
of  Olga  as  a  perfect  type  of  the  man  about  town 
she  had  read  of  in  metropolitan  novels. 

When  Mrs.  Mueller  in  response  to  a  dicta- 
torial nod  from  her  husband  produced  several 
bottles  of  beer,  Olga  began  to  feel  that  the 
Goshen  ideas  of  life  as  laid  down  by  father, 
mother  and  the  Sunday  school  superintendent 
were  indeed  the  "old  stuff"  Mr.  Mueller  de- 
clared them. 

Nevertheless  when  a  glass  of  the  amber  fluid 
was  placed  before  her  by  the  still  genial  Muel- 


20  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

ler,  "old  stuff"  held  a  tem]3orary  advantage,  for 
she  said: 

"Excuse  me,  uncle,  but  I  never  drank  beer, 
and  I'm  afraid  it  would  make  me  sick." 

"Nonsense,"  said  Mr.  Mueller,  impatiently* 
"get  wise,  Ollie.  This  is  malt  tonic,  best  in  the 
world;  won't  hurt  you  a  bit."  Then  as  he  saw 
her  hesitatingly  lift  the  glass,  "But  don't  drink 
with  any  of  these  fellows  that  ask  you  to,  'cause 
if  you  do" — ^with  a  significant  pause  and  a  smile 
in  "George's"  direction — "they'll  get  your 
goat." 

"Is  right,"  assented  the  boarder,  lifting  his 
glass,  thirstily.    "Gesundheit,  Ollie." 

Olga  clinked  glasses,  hesitated  a  moment,  then 
sipped  the  heavy  liquid.  When  she  set  the  glass 
down  it  was  half  full,  and  the  preliminary  step 
in  the  "education"  of  "Pete  Hart's  kid"  had 
been  taken.  At  the  same  time,  Mueller's  warn- 
ing, embodied  in  the  ambiguous  phrase  "they'll 
get  your  goat"  rang  significantly  in  her  ears. 
She  decided  that  there  were  things  in  the  metro- 
politan life  that  even  the  infallible  family  council 
had  little  knowledge  of. 

"Ollie's  some  dancer,  George,"  Mueller  was 
saying  when  Olga  came  out  of  the  first  home- 
sick mood.  "Prize  waltzer  and  all  that;  classy 
on  the  hop,  aren't  you,  kid?  Just  wait  till  we 
get  her  some  'scenery'  and  put  her  wise." 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  21 

"How  about  taking  in  the  hop  at  Lincoln 
hall  tomorrow  night?"  queried  George,  quickly. 
"Introduce  you  to  all  my  friends  and  you  and 
I  will  enter  in  the  prize  waltz  they're  running. 
If  we  win  it  or  make  a  good  showing  you'll  be 
in  right  and  the  fellows  will  all  be  camping  on 
the  doorstep.  Most  of  the  fellows  and  girls 
you'll  work  with  in  the  store  will  be  there  and 
it'll  help  you  a  lot  if  you  know  them  before  you 
start  in." 

"What  kind  of  a  place  is  that  Lincoln  hall, 
George?"  asked  Mrs.  Mueller.  It  was  the  first 
definite  part  she  had  taken  in  the  conversation. 

"Oh,  it's  a  good  place,"  answered  the  boarder, 
carelessly.  "This  dance  is  being  run  by  the  Lin- 
coln club  and  the  prize  waltz  is  the  big  feature. 
I'd  like  to  beat  Louie  Sayr  and  his  girl  in  the 
prize  event  and  if  Ollie  can  waltz  as  well  as  I 
can,  it's  a  cinch.  The  prize  is  $25  and  that'll 
buy  her  a  new  hat  if  we  win.  What  do  you  say, 
kid?" 

Olga  was  rapidly  becoming  accustomed  to  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  speech  peculiar  to  Mueller  and 
Richert.  She  finished  her  glass  of  beer  and  de- 
liberated over  the  possibility  of  winning  the  prize 
waltz  event,  thereby  enabling  her  to  return  the 
money  Mueller  proposed  spending  on  her.  As 
she  looked  up  she  caught  a  smile  of  amusement 


22  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

on  the  boarder's  face.    For  some  reason  she  re- 
sented it  more  than  his  famiharity. 

"What  d'ye  say,  Olhe?"  queried  MueUer,  fill- 
ing her  glass  again.  Again  the  picture  of  the 
family  council  shaking  its  head  in  grave  dis- 
approval, caused  her  to  hesitate.  Mueller 
frowned  and  Olga  raised  her  glass  gaily,  smiling 
into  George's  eyes. 

"Gesundheit  again,  George;  I'm  with  you  and 
we'll  make  them  all" — she  paused — "we'll  make 
them  all  work  to  stop  us,"  she  fini^ed  smilingly. 

"And  then  some,"  assented  Richert,  enthusi- 
astically. 

"Her  education  has  passed  the  primary  stage," 
said  Mr.  Mueller,  with  a  resumption  of  his  dis- 
carded professional  manner.  Henceforward  it 
proceeds  into  the  elementary." 

All  laughed  as  at  a  very  humorous  remark, 
but  ^Irs.  Mueller's  smile  seemed  dubious.  Muel- 
ler poured  brandy  from  the  decanter  for  Richert 
and  himself,  glanced  at  Olga,  then  stopped  the 
bottle  and  placed  it  on  the  sideboard. 

After  a  brief  test  of  Olga's  proficiency  in  the 
waltz,  the  boarder  pronounced  her  "an  odds-on 
favorite"  and  demanded  to  know  what  "jay  danc- 
ing teacher"  taught  "that  gliding  reverse." 

"Why,  that's  copyrighted  stuff  and  it's  what 
beat  me  and  my  'doll'  the  last  time,"  he  declared 
beamingly.  "Louie  Sayr  and  Jennie  JMaher  have 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  23 

got  it  down  pat,  but  they  make  the  turn  like  an 
I.  C.  freight  train  alongside  us.  We'll  'cop' 
sure,  Oliie.    You  watch  my  smoke." 

True  to  his  word,  Mr.  Mueller  bore  her  off 
to  Commercial  avenue  and  purchased  the  prom- 
ised "layout"  with  a  prodigality  that  might  have 
surprised  his  wife.  That  his  interest  was  merely 
philanthropic,  Olga  felt,  for  not  once  did  he 
depart  from  the  fatherly  air  of  indulgence  that 
had  been  his  from  the  start  of  their  acquaint- 
ance. Mr.  Mueller  picked  and  chose  with  the 
eye  of  a  connoiseur  and  Mr.  Mueller's  word  car- 
ried the  weight  of  metropolitan  experience. 

Meanwhile  Richert  questioned  Mrs.  Mueller. 
Skillfully  he  drew  from  her  the  fact  that  Olga 
had  been  known  as  the  belle  of  the  little  Indiana 
town;  that  she  had  come  to  Chicago  at  the  so- 
licitation of  her  aunt;  that  she  had  never  been 
away  from  home  before;  had  never  "kept  com- 
pany" with  any  young  man  and  was  known  as  a 
thoroughly  good  girl. 

At  the  conclusion  the  boarder  withdrew  to  his 
room  and  sat  for  a  long  time  in  a  deep  Morris 
chair,  a  half  smoked  cigarette  between  his  fin- 
gers. As  he  left  the  house  later  he  paused  to 
murmur : 

"Country  class  and  chicken,"  then  as  the  door 
closed  behind  him:    "Soft." 

Lincoln  hall  was  crowded.    It  was  a  triumph 


24  FROM  DANCE  HALT. 

for  the  ''Pastime  Social  club"  and  Harry  (Bub- 
bles) English,  president,  promoter  and  member- 
ship at  large  of  that  organization,  smiled  expan- 
sively. "Bubbles"  was  a  business  man  and 
"Bubbles"  had  run  dances  before;  wherefore,  it 
was  apparent  to  him  that  the  promotion  of  the 
present  dance  would  net  him  at  least  a  hundred 
dollars,  exclusive  of  the  $40  bonus  to  be  secured 
from  the  proprietors  of  the  saloon  on  the  first 
floor  if  business  reached  a  satisfactory  point. 

Mr.  English  was  a  small,  dark  yoimg  man, 
hailing  from  Gary,  Ind.,  where  he  was  a  notable 
figure  in  "the  Patch,"  which  to  the  initiated, 
corres]3onds  to  Chicago's  Tenderloin,  or  South 
Chicago's  "Harbor  avenue."  Mr.  English  was 
a  past  master  in  the  art  of  promoting  dances. 

Knowing  South  Chicago  and  the  contiguous 
territory,  he  had  advertised  his  dance  as  an  "in- 
formal ball  and  waltzing  contest,"  with  grand 
prizes  of  fifty  dollars  in  gold  for  the  three  best 
couples.  Mr,  English  knew  that  a  sprinkling 
of  the  really  respectable  and  proficient  dancers 
of  Cheltenham,  Windsor  Park  and  Grand 
Crossing  would  rise  to  the  bait  and  willingly 
rub  elbows  with  the  regular  South  Chicago  and 
Irondale  clientele  of  Lincoln  hall  for  the  sake 
of  winning  the  prize. 

But  even  his  most  optimistic  expectations  had 
been  exceeded  and  Mr.  English  found  his  dance 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  25 

crowded  long  before  10  o'clock,  when  the  "regu- 
lars" arrived  in  full  force.  The  hall  is  situated 
on  the  thii'd  floor  of  the  building  at  Ninety-first 
and  Commercial  avenue.  Admission  was  by 
ticket  and  had  been  placed  at  fifty  cents  per 
person.  An  additional  fee  of  fifteen  cents  was 
charged  for  wardrobe  accommodations. 

Mr.  English  had  advertised  his  dance  well  by 
the  "plugger"  method,  the  accepted  publicity 
system,  and  had  distributed  many  thousand 
cards  bearing  popular  songs  on  the  reverse  side, 
with  an  invitation  to  be  present  at  the  event  of 
the  season.  That  the  Pastime  Social  club  had  no 
being  as  an  organization  beyond  the  capable  per- 
sonality of  "Bubbles"  English  became  appar- 
ent when  that  gentleman  requested  a  favored 
few  to  wear  the  white  ribbons  of  the  floor  and 
reception  committees.  Committees  are  indisj)en- 
sable  formalities. 

In  the  balcony  Professor  Krause's  orchestra 
dispensed  musical  inspiration  at  bargain  rates. 
A  certain  amount  of  prestige,  apparently  at- 
taches to  the  providing  of  music  for  a  prize 
waltzing  contest  and  the  professor's  services  had 
been  secured  at  a  bargain. 

Two  policemen  had  been  detailed  to  keep  or- 
der and  Mr,  English  informed  both  that  the 
drinks  were  "on"  him  at  all  times  during  the 
evening.     The  hour  for  termination  of  the  "in- 


26  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

formal  ball"  had  been  set  for  3  a.  m.  and  both 
officers  nodded  understandingly  when  ]Mr.  Eng- 
lish informed  them  in  addition  that  "no  rough 
stuff  goes." 

Close  to  10  p.  m.  the  delegation  of  "regulars" 
arrived  and  the  ensemble  was  complete.  Pre- 
liminary dances  had  justified  Mr.  English's  man- 
date that  "no  rough  stuff  goes,"  and  the  crowd, 
though  a  trifle  boisterous,  was  well  behaved. 

The  grand  march  had  been  dispensed  with  and 
dancing  was  by  invitation.  Programs  were  con- 
spicuously absent.  A  glance  through  the  crowd 
revealed  little  but  the  free  and  easy  good  fellow- 
ship of  the  proletariat  save  for  an  occasional 
young  man,  scrupulously  dressed  with  a  large 
diamond  ring  or  stickpin  prominently  displayed, 
or  a  girl  whose  effort  at  elegance  and  manner 
reminded  of  Freiberg's  or  more  favored  resorts 
of  the  free  and  easy.  In  one  corner  of  the  dance 
floor  enclosure  was  a  well-built  young  German 
who  seemed  to  know  "everybody  and  his 
brother,"  as  he  informed  a  pretty  girl  at  his 
side,  whose  blue  silk  dress  and  black  and  white 
picture  hat  belied,  in  their  elegance,  her  open- 
eyed  gaze  of  wonder. 

Olga  had  come  to  the  dance,  primed  for  the 
honors  that  would  greet  her  "copyrighted"  glid- 
ing reverse. 

The  program  started  with  a  catchy  two-step 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  27 

and  Olga  forgot  everything  but  the  fact  that 
she  was  "working  hke  a  clock,"  in  the  lure  of 
the  dance.  George  was  a  good  dancer  and  Olga 
skimmed  over  the  floor  as  lightly  as  a  swallow. 
On  the  turns  her  partner  insisted  on  the  "gliding 
reverse"  without  a  step  and  the  young  couple 
threaded  their  way  in  and  out  of  the  closely 
packed  dancers  as  swiftly  and  surely  as  a  needle 
in  the  hands  of  an  expert  seamstress. 

At  the  conclusion  Olga  was  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  young  men  who  proffered  their  cards 
and  begged  dances  for  the  remainder  of  the  even- 
ing. "George"  was  besieged  by  his  friends  to 
"put  them  next."  Introductions  followed  with 
A  rapidity  that  bewildered.  Girls  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  stared  enviously. 

One  3^oung  man  who  had  reached  her  first  sug- 
gested in  an  undertone  that  they  "get  out  of  this 
panic  and  have  a  drink  downstairs."  George 
assented  eagerly,  but  Olga  hesitated;  it  was  not 
the  picture  of  the  family  council  that  rose  up 
before  her,  but  a  i)hrase  of  peculiar  insistence 
that  seemed  to  ring  in  her  ears: 

"Don't  drink  with  any  fellow  that  asks  you, 
'cause  they'll  get  your  goat  if  you  do." 

"I'll  have  an  ice  cream  soda  with  you  gentle- 
men," she  said,  "but  nothing  stronger." 

The  pale-faced  man  who  had  proposed  the 
trip  downstairs   fingered  his   diamond   stickpin 


28  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

and  stared  into  Richert's  eyes,  an  i/icredulous 
smile  played  about  his  mouth. 

"Oh,  come  on,  Ollie,  get  wise,"  said  the  escort, 
impatiently.  "You  can  have  a  glass  of  beer  if 
you  want  to  and  we'll  let  it  go  at  that — notliing 
stronger.    Don't  be  a  clam." 

"If  Miss  Hart  wishes  it  she  can  have  a  creme 
de  menthe  or  something  soft,  such  as  a  pousse 
cafe,"  said  the  other  man,  with  an  ingratiating 
smile. 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  tiresome,  gentle- 
men, but  I'd  rather  not  have  anything,"  said 
Olga,  less  determined^.  She  was  rather  well 
impressed  by  the  stranger's  courteous  manner. 

"Come  on,"  said  Richert,  leading  the  way 
down  the  stairs  to  the  first  floor,  where  Cava- 
naugh  brothers  had  prepared  for  the  evening 
with  a  force  of  five  additional  waiters  and  bar- 
tenders. Olga  hesitated  at  the  "ladies'  en- 
trance," but  the  pale-faced  stranger  guided  her 
gently  within.  His  deference  would  have  seemed 
exaggerated  to  one  familiar  with  the  unmistak- 
able signs  of  his  calling,  but  to  Olga  he  appeared 
as  the  cavalier. 

Seated  at  the  table,  George  mopped  his  brow 
vigorously  and  called  for  a  waiter.  The  country' 
girl  glanced  about  the  well-filled  rear  room  and 
noted  with  surprise  that  strong  wines,  cocktails 
and  even  the  malt  drinks  of  the  stronger  sex 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  29 

were  popular  among  the  girls  and  that  more 
than  one  already  was  laughing  quite  hysterically. 
One  girl,  apparently  not  over  sixteen,  was  lean- 
ing across  the  table  with  her  eyes  fixed  in  a  pe- 
culiar stare  on  the  face  of  her  masculine  com- 
panion. Her  face  was  flushed  and  her  fingers 
toyed  nervously  with  a  long-stemmed  glass. 

Her  companion  seemed  to  be  debating  some 
question  in  his  mind. 

"Nothing  doing  tonight,  kid,"  he  finally  an- 
nounced, decisively,  whereupon  she  began  repin- 
ing bitterly  for  having  taken  up  with  such  "a 
cheap  tin  horn." 

The  man  before  her,  apparently  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  replied  angrily.  The  girl  met  him 
half  way  with  an  outburst  of  slang  expressions 
that  caused  Olga  to  half  rise  from  her  chair, 
though  she  did  not  comprehend  a  word  of  it. 

"Never  mind  that  pair,"  said  George.  "She's 
only  trying  to  shake  him  down  for  the  evening." 
The  stranger  said  nothing,  but  the  suggestion 
of  a  smile  played  about  his  white  face. 

Olga  did  not  understand.  Since  she  had  been 
in  the  city  there  was  so  much  that  she  did  not 
understand.  It  seemed  to  her  she  must  learn  a 
new  language. 

"I  don't  think  my  folks — I — I  don't  want  to 
stay,"  she  began.  "If  you  don't  mind  I'd  like  to 
go  home." 


30  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"Sure,"  said  George,  with  a  note  of  anger  in 
his  tone.  "There's  the  jayhawker  for  you.  Spoil 
our  evening.  Six  weeks  from  now  and  you'll 
understand  how  to  handle  yourself  without  pry- 
ing into  the  business  of  people  around  you. 
Come  on,  we'll  go  home.  JSIight  a  known  what 
to  expect  from  a  cornhusker." 

"No,  no,"  said  Olga,  "I  didn't  mean  to  spoil 
it."     Her  embarrassment  was  manifest. 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  stranger,  pulling  George 
by  the  coattails.  "Take  a  lesson  in  manners. 
Can't  you  see  that  this  little  girl  wants  to  be  a 
good  fellow,  but  she  can't  stand  the  rough  stuff?" 

The  appearance  of  the  waiter  put  a  quietus  to 
embarrassment.  George  ordered  a  rye  whisky. 
The  strang'er  wanted  some  pecuhar  kind  of  wa- 
ter. "And  the  little  girl,"  he  said  with  such  an 
air  of  chann  that  Olga  felt  her  ebbing  confidence 
return,  "nothing  stronger  for  her  than  a  creme 
yVette  or  j^erhaps  an  absinthe  frappe?" 

At  the  mention  of  absinthe  frappe,  Olga's  face 
cleared.  Frappe  was  famihar.  Recollections 
came  to  her  of  the  reception  that  Mrs.  Grayson 
liad  given  to  the  ne^v  minister  and  his  wife  at 
home.  Olga  was  on€  of  tlie  girls  who  served. 
And  they  had  dealt  frappe  from  a  big  cut  glass 
bowl. 

"Oh,  I'll  take  an  absence  frappe,"  she  replied 
with    an    appreciable    increase    of    enthusiasm. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  31 

"What  a  cute  name  for  it.  I  suppose  they 
named  it  after  the  song?" 

"What  song?"  asked  George. 

"Absence  Makes  the  Heart  Grow  Fonder." 

George  burst  into  a  loud  guffaw.  "Chicken, 
all  right,"  he  said.     "It  ain't  absence,  its " 

The  stranger  put  a  restraining  hand  on 
George's  wrist.  Ollie  noticed  how  white  his  fin- 
gers were.  There  was  a  polish  to  his  nails  that 
somehow  reminded  her  of  the  buffalo  horns  in 
the  hall  at  home.  Below  his  coat  sleeve  extended 
a  cuff  with  a  pink  and  white  stripe,  with  just 
the  suggestion  of  mother  of  pearl  links. 

"There,  didn't  I  tell  you,"  he  said.  "This  kid 
is  some  wit,  all  right,  all  right.  But  you  don't 
want  one  of  them  frappes — too  sweetish,  make 
you  sluggish — can't  win  that  dancing  prize.  Bet- 
ter have  a  creme  de  mint — you  know,  pepper- 
mint juice." 

The  waiter  set  before  Olga  a  small,  stemmed 
glass  with  a  conical  bowl.  In  the  bottom  were 
inviting  particles  of  cracked  ice.  Surmounting 
it  was  a  liquid,  clear,  dark  green  in  tint.  From 
the  glass  protruded  two  short  straws,  suggestive 
of  the  soda  fountain  in  the  drug  store  at  home. 
The  fresh  odor  of  mint  cooled  her  nostrils.  She 
put  the  straws  to  her  lips  and  took  a  tentative 
taste.  There  was  none  of  the  bitterness  of  the 
beer.     The  strong  nauseating  fire  of  the  occa- 


32  FROM  DANCE  HAI.L 

sional  hot  draughts  of  whisky  and  water  she  had 
been  forced  to  take  at  home  by  the  country  doc- 
tor were  not  here.  Again  she  sipped  the  cool- 
ing, subtle,  refreshing  hquid.  She  looked  at  the 
stranger.  Both  smiled.  Her  thoughts  were 
those  of  delight  at  returning  trust.  His  thoughts 
were  his  own. 

She  launched  into  a  description  of  the  pepper- 
mints and  horse  mints  on  "our  place  down  in 
Goshen,"  a  delightful  air  of  familiarity  accom- 
panying her  description.  George  listened  in  a 
bored  manner,  but  the  stranger  watched  her 
keenly,  smiling  softly  the  while. 

As  the  girl  was  carried  away  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  this  pale,  slender  self-contained  man 
was  interested  to  the  extent  of  letting  her  mo- 
nopolize the  conversation,  she  hardly  noticed  the 
intrusion  of  the  waiter,  the  quiet  raising  of  eye- 
brows on  the  part  of  the  stranger,  the  departure 
and  the  return  with  filled  glasses. 

Slowly  there  stole  over  her  a  warmth.  She 
lost  her  hesitation.  Words  began  to  be  easy. 
Talk  wandered  into  a  wealth  of  minute  detail 
of  her  life  and  her  people. 

"We  have  an  orchestra  out  at  the  schoolhouse 
every  other  Friday  night,"  she  was  saying,  "but 
it  doesn't  pla^y  so  nicely  as  this  big  one  here, 
Mr. — Mr. — why,  T  don't  even  know  your  name." 

"Norman,"  said  the  stranger.    "G.  Ellsworth 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  33 

Norman.  George,  didn't  you  introduce  me?" 
But  George  had  slipped  through  the  folding 
doors  to  the  bar  in  front.  Drinks  had  been  com- 
ing too  slowly. 

"He's  a  swell  fellow,"  said  G.  Ellsworth  Nor- 
man. "Got  a  heart  big  as  an  ox.  By  the  way, 
your  glass  is  empty,"  he  beckoned  a  hovering 
waiter.  "Yes,  George  Richert  is  a  regular  fel- 
low, all  right.  And  won't  you  tell  me  how  he 
came  to  find  such  a  stunning  person  as  you?" 

The  directness  of  the  flattery  might  have  em- 
barrassed Olga  a  half  hour  ago.  Now  she  felt 
only  pleasure  at  it  coming  from  this  obvious 
master  of  the  wide,  wide  world. 

After  a  while  George  returned.  Had  Olga 
been  more  discerning  she  might  have  noticed  the 
thickness  of  his  talk  and  the  heaviness  of  his  man- 
ner. Mr.  G.  Ellsworth  Norman  dehcately  sug- 
gested to  return  to  the  hall  and  George  was  not 
averse  to  yielding  his  partner  to  that  gentleman 
for  the  next  dance. 

On  entering  the  hall  she  sensed  a  subtle  change 
in  the  atmosphere.  Over  at  one  side  of  the  floor 
two  professional  pugilists  were  exchanging  com- 
pliments, each  surrounded  by  his  following,  the 
Irondale  mill  men  and  the  Grand  Crossing  rail- 
roaders. Several  well-dressed  girls  of  blase  ap- 
pearance were  carrying  on  some  sort  of  negotia- 
tions with  two  men,  rather  older  than  the  youths 


34!  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

who  made  up  the  vast  majority  of  the  attend- 
ance. A  party  was  finally  made  up  and  all  four 
left. 

On  the  dance  floor  a  strange  variety  of  figures 
was  in  course  of  execution.  Many  of  the  couples 
bobbed  backward  and  forward  in  a  dance  which 
Olga  recognized  from  the  description  of  Mr. 
Mueller  as  the  "Rockin'  Horse  Gallop."  In 
this  dance  the  masculine  figure  executed  the 
"backward  rock"  with  such  force  in  some  cases 
as  to  lift  the  companion  several  feet  above  the 
floor. 

"Pretty  raw,"  commented  Olga's  partner,  as 
several  couples  careened  past  in  modification  of 
the  "grizzly  bear."  The  orchestra  was  playing 
an  air  of  doubtful  character  and  practically  the 
entire  floor  was  a  picture  of  flying  skirts  and 
lumbering  couples,  swaying  with  the  peculiar 
step  of  a  pacing  horse.  In  the  vortex  of  the 
whirling  spray  of  humanity  Olga  saw  George 
Richert  dancing  the  "grizzly"  with  a  rouged 
girl  whom  even  she  was  able  to  place  as  "tough." 

With  the  encore,  a  rattling  march  air,  "the 
panic"  reached  its  height.  The  floor  was  given 
over  exclusively  to  the  "rounders,"  the  "bear- 
cats" and  the  "hoppers"  and  along  the  rails  those 
present,  who  had  succeeded  in  maintaining  their 
claims  to  respectability,  looked  on  with  varying 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  35 

expressions  of  disgust,  disapproval  or  indiffer- 
ence. 

In  one  corner  of  the  pavilion  surrounding  the 
dance  floor  "Bubbles"  English  surveyed  in 
amusement.  In  his  pocket  several  hundred  dol- 
lars "clear  velvet"  reposed.  With  the  success- 
ful financial  outcome  of  his  venture,  interest  had 
become  detached.  A  constant  influx  of  visitors 
to  the  back  room  down  in  "Kavanaugh's"  testi- 
fied to  the  volume  of  business  that  was  being 
done.  Everj^body  seemed  to  be  drinking,  al- 
though the  waiters  denied  that  any  real  "drunks" 
had  been  accommodated. 

Other  saloons  in  the  neighborhood  were  do- 
ing well  also,  but  Kavanaugh  brothers  had  cor- 
nered the  lion's  share  of  the  "business."  A  stream 
of  tliirsty  dancers  clogged  the  stairway  at  all 
times  and  the  smoking  and  ladies'  retiring  rooms 
gave  forth  ample  evidence  of  the  financial  suc- 
cess of  the  enterprise. 

The  dance  went  on  for  many  minutes  more 
and  in  the  midst  two  policemen  crowded  to  the 
rail  and  began  to  clamber  over.  Their  purpose 
was  evident  and  Mr.  Enghsh  accompanied  by 
several  of  the  toughtest  looking  of  the  Irondale 
"crew"  rushed  up  and  backed  them  into  a  corner 
where  an  excited  conversation  was  held.  At  the 
close  a  bill  changed  hands 'and  the  dance  went  on. 
Olga's  partner  laughed  sarcastically. 


36  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"They've  fixed  the  uniforms,  but  I'll  bet  there 
are  a  couple  of  'mugs'  here  from  the  assistant 
chief's  office  ready  to  put  one  over  on  the  pre- 
cinct men,"  said  the  stranger,  again  fingering  his 
stickpin. 

Olga  failed  to  appreciate  the  inner  workings 
of  the  police  department,  but  she  gathered  that 
conditions  present  were  bad  enough  to  warrant 
police  interference,  even  in  the  mind  of  this  cos- 
mopolitan stranger.  The  number  finally  ended 
in  a  riot  of  indecency  and  even  "Bubbles"  shook 
his  head  disapprovingly,  while  the  really  con- 
siderable proportion  of  respectables  along  the 
rail  promised  themselves  that  they  would  leave 
the  hall  after  "the  prize  waltz." 

Two  more  dances  intervened  before  the  fea- 
ture event — the  prize  waltz — and  Olga  danced 
the  first,  a  waltz,  with  the  quiet  stranger,  who 
had  remained  at  her  side  since  the  defection  of 
George.  The  cosmopolitan  proved  an  even  more 
finished  dancer  than  the  young  electrician  and 
his  conversation,  though  subdued,  was  intensely 
interesting  to  the  country  girl,  disillusioned  by 
what  she  had  seen  and  heard.  Occasionally  he 
smiled  at  a  flashily  dressed  woman  in  the  crowd 
or  winked  slyly  at  some  kindred  spirit. 

The  following  number  was  announced  as  an 
"eccentric"  and  Olga  dodged  a  repetition  of  the 
previous  "panic"  by  proposing  that  they  have 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  37 

some  more  "refreshments."  The  stranger  as- 
sented readily.  Down  the  winding  stairs  they 
went,  in  company  with  a  few  of  the  more  deter- 
mined respectables,  who  had  reached  the  limit  of 
endurance. 

All  present,  including  the  palpably  profes- 
sional women  of  the  street,  were  pronouncing 
the  dance  a  "riot"  and  Olga  welcomed  the  tem- 
porary seclusion  of  the  rear  room  and  the  creme 
de  menthe  of  which  she  had  become  strangely 
fond.  The  conversation  of  her  partner  had 
proved  the  only  real  diversion  of  the  evening 
and  the  absence  of  the  burly  George  and  his 
familiarities  was  a  relief.  Never  once  had  the 
subdued  man  opposite  her  departed  from  the 
attitude  of  courtesy  and  deference.  A  close  ob- 
server might  have  been  struck  with  the  fact  that 
he  seemed  bored. 

Mueller's  colloquial  warning,  "They'll  get 
your  goat  if  you  do,"  stuck  in  Olga's  memory 
with  the  haunting  familiarity  of  a  nursery  jingle. 
She  found  herself  repeating  it  over  and  over  in 
her  mind  even  while  she  was  drinking  the  gi'een- 
ish  liquid  before  her.  Peculiarly  enough,  she 
did  not  recall  the  name  of  the  man  she  was 
drinking  with  nor  did  she  study  him  closely.  His 
quiet  clothes,  polished  manner  and  deferential 
speech  appealed  to  her  as  natural  in  a  man  of 


38  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

his  metropolitan  experience.  His  eyes  were  con- 
tinually on  her  face,  eternally  seeking  something. 

"You  don't  mind  my  saying  that  I  like  you," 
he  told  Olga  as  the  waiter  turned  away. 

"Why?"  she  asked.  Her  face  was  noticeably 
flushed.  Her  eyes  were  luminous.  The  clamor 
of  those  about  her  had  suddenly  seemed  far 
away. 

"Well,  you're  so  different." 

Olga  sensed  a  tenseness  in  his  tone.  Hereto- 
fore the  impersonality  of  the  man  had  struck 
her  as  that  of  a  brother  or  an  old  friend.  How 
he  was  beginning  to  assume  a  j)ositiveness  that 
was  flattering  to  the  girl  from  the  country. 

"How  different?" 

"Oh,  you're  such  a  funny  girl.  You  aren't 
like  anyone  I  seem  to  have  met  before.  I've 
only  known  you  a  few  hours  and  I  feel  as  though 
I'd  trust  3^ou  with  every  secret  I  have." 

His  hand  strayed  from  his  glass.  The  tips  of 
his  polished  fingers  brushed  her  wrist.  Olga  felt 
as  if  she  had  been  bitten.  She  withdrew  her 
hand.  The  slender  fingers  pressed  firmly.  Be- 
fore Olga  knew  it  she  had  returned  the  pressure. 
Then  she  sat  back  suddenly. 

"Please  take  me  to  Mr.  Richert,"  she  said. 

"But  you " 

"At  once." 

Olga  returned  to  the  hall  above  as  the  entries 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  39 

for  the  grand  event,  the  prize  waltz,  were  being 
recorded.  Richert  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  but 
the  quiet  stranger  soon  found  him  in  the  smok- 
ing room,  intoxicated  beyond  the  point  where 
locomotion  of  any  kind  was  possible.  The  cos- 
mopolitan bestowed  but  one  glance  on  the  som- 
nolent electrician,  then  returned  to  Olga. 

"George  has  gone  home,  sick,"  he  reported 
and  the  girl  was  alarmed. 

"Oh,  no,  not  without  me,"  said  Olga  in  alarm. 
"Please  tell  him  to  get  my  things." 

"No,  don't  get  flustered,  child,"  said  Mr.  Ells- 
worth. He  beckoned  to  "Bubbles"  English,  who 
seemed  ho  know  him  as  an  old  friend. 

"Miss  Hart,"  he  said,  "is  worried  about 
George  Richert,  who  brought  her  to  the  dance. 
Will  you  please  assure  her  that  he  was  taken 
home  and  tell  her  what  he  said?" 

"He  said,"  repHed  the  portly  "Bubbles,  "uh — 
what  did  he  say?  Oh,  yes;  he  said  he  didn't  want 
to  spoil  your  chances  for  winning  the  grand 
prize  and  so  he  skipped  without  telling  you  be- 
cause he  knew  you'd  insist  on  coming,  too.  He 
said  he  wanted  you  to  stay.  He  said  that  he 
wanted  you  to  stick  it  out  with  his  old  friend 
here,  Mr. " 

"Ellsworth,"  supplanted  that  gentleman. 

"Yes,  and  that  this  gent  would  take  care  of 
you  just  as  good  as  your  father.     Yep,"  with 


40  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

evident  pride  at  his  triumphant  thought,  "he 
said  this  gentleman  would  take  care  of  you  just 
as  good  as  your  father." 

"And  if  we're  going  to  win  that  prize,"  said 
Mr.  Ellsworth,  assuming  the  leadership  of 
things,  "we  gotta  get  busy." 

Fourteen  judges  were  chosen  from  the  half- 
intoxicated  throng  that  surrounded  the  dance 
floor  and  the  event  began  after  much  wrangling 
and  discussion  between  the  various  officials.  It 
was  after  midnight  and  the  only  respectables 
present  were  those  who  had  come  for  the  main 
event — and  had  managed  to  survive.  The  crowd 
about  the  hall  to  the  number  of  more  than  five 
hundred  howled  for  the  respective  favorites  and 
the  waltz  finally  began  in  the  midst  of  ribaldry. 

The  accompaniment,  a  slow  musical  comedy 
selection,  began  with  orchestration  that  was 
really  creditable.  Olga  Swung  into  the  rhythm 
perfectly  with  her  partner  and  was  surprised  to 
find  that  his  step  accorded  with  hers,  easily  and 
gracefully.  The  man  was  a  finished  dancer  and 
when  they  had  made  the  first  turn  many  an  un- 
clouded eye  in  the  hall  followed  them.  The 
event  proved  the  only  remaining  shred  of  respec- 
tability and  even  the  orchestra  sensed  the  dif- 
ference and  performed  admirably.  In  the 
judges'  enclosure  "Bubbles"  English  was  beam- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  41 

ing  and  the  policemen  at  the  door  stared  inter- 
estedly and  with  a  considerable  degree  of  relief. 

The  personnel  of  the  committee  of  judges  was 
the  result  of  Mr.  English's  idea  as  to  which  fac- 
tion or  representation  had  served  his  purpose 
best.  The  Irondale  "crew"  were  in  a  large  ma- 
jority and  many  of  the  spectators  predicted  that 
"the  little  doll  in  blue  will  be  jobbed" — meaning 
that  Olga  would  probably  lose  first  prize  through 
the  prejudice  of  the  judges.  One  of  the  girl 
contestants  showed  unmistakable  signs  of  intox- 
ication and  when,  in  passing  close  to  Olga  and 
her  partner,  she  "heeled"  the  girl,  causing  her 
to  falter  momentarily,  the  crowd  shouted  com- 
ments in  a  boisterous  key  and  admonished  the 
judges  to  "crab  the  rough  stuff." 

The  dance  was  concluded  in  a  series  of  grace- 
ful evolutions  and  the  orchestra  stopped.  Then 
the  numerous  factions  represented  howled  for 
their  favorites  and  the  cautious  judges  found 
themselves  unable  to  reach  a  decision.  The  con- 
sensus of  opinion  was  that  Olga  and  her  part- 
ner had  earned  the  honors  by  their  faultless  work, 
but  after  ten  minutes  of  wrangling  and  numer- 
ous fights  on  the  dance  floor,  the  decision  v/as 
given  as: 

"First  prize,  Miss  Jennie  Maher  and  Louis 
Sayr;  second.  Miss  Olga  Hart  and  partner." 

Scores  of  unsteadj^  youths  rushed  forward  to 


42  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

congratulate  Olga,  telling  her  that  was  a  "bear," 
"a  whale"  and  other  complimentary  things  of 
doubtful  expression.  Numerous  invitations  to 
drink  were  forthcoming.  Through  it  all  her 
partner  remained  close  at  her  side,  keeping  off 
the  more  eager  young  men  who  crowded  for- 
ward to  put  themselves  "next  to  the  new  stuff." 

The  quiet  stranger  received  little  attention 
from  the  crowd.  He  was  merely  represented  as 
" — and  partner"  and  he  remained  passive  except 
when  some  drunken  youth  elbowed  his  way  to 
the  front  and  leered  suggestively  into  Olga's 
face.  The  stranger  pushed  himself  into  close 
proximity  to  the  unsteady  one  and  carried  him 
to  the  edge  of  the  crowd. 

Many  of  those  present  suspected  him  of  being 
a  "mug,"  or  plain  clothes  officer,  while  some  re- 
ferred to  him  by  a  name  all  explanatory  in  its 
application.  One  woman  of  doubtful  appear- 
ance on  the  edge  of  the  crowd  caught  his  eye  and 
exchanged  a  gleam  of  recognition,  but  to  the  ma- 
jority he  was  a  "ringer." 

Olga  was  disappointed  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
she  had  won  second  prize  amomiting  to  "ten  dol- 
lars in  gold,"  as  the  announcer  stated  impres- 
sively. She  was  drunk  with  delight  at  the  fact 
she  had  won  tribute  from  these  city  people.  She 
felt  like  a  queen  who  had  been  robbed  of  a 
crown.     The  outcome  of  the  dance  apparently 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  43 

had  worked  a  decided  change  in  her  partner  also. 
His  manner  became  brisk,  almost  commanding, 
and  he  smiled  cynically  as  he  noted  her  disap- 
pointed expression : 

"Never  mind,  kid,  we'll  celebrate  on  the  ten 
anyhow.  Come  on  along  and  we'll  have  a  good 
drink,"  with  a  new  familiarity  taking  her  arm 
and  leading  the  way  to  the  stairs. 

What  passed  in  the  rear  room  of  "Kava- 
naugh's"  is  known  to  Olga,  to  the  quiet  stranger, 
who  had  so  abruptly  changed  his  manner  and — 
possibly  to  the  waiter  whose  ministrations  filled 
the  half  hour  interim,  but  it  is  not  for  this  rec- 
ord. When  Olga  and  her  briskly,  silent  partner 
appeared,  his  pale  face  held  a  new  expression 
and  his  arm  grasped  Olga's  tightly.  The  little 
country  girl  had  been  transformed.  Her  vivid 
complexion  had  changed  from  its  pink  and  white 
to  a  startling,  fiery  red. 

Over  her  face  a  new  expression  had  spread. 
Softly  she  referred  to  her  cosmopolitan  chevalier 
as  "Ellsworth." 

The  dance  had  relapsed  into  the  mire  from 
which  it  had  been  rescued  momentarily  by  the 
prize  event.  With  the  ten  dollar  gold  piece  she 
had  won  in  her  glove,  Olga  descended  the  stairs 
with  her  partner  as  a  squad  of  fifteen  policemen 
entered  the  dance  floor  and  threatened  all  who 


U  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

remained  with  arrest.  The  "lid"  was  on  and  the 
crowd  left  reluctantly  and  a  trifle  belligerently. 

One  man  remained  on  the  floor  after  all  had 
left.  He  insisted  in  dancing  alone  and  a  call 
went  for  "the  wagon."  In  a  drunken  frenzy 
George  Richert  fought  and  struggled  to  get 
away  and  find  his  "girl." 

"God  help  the  girl  you  brought  up  here,"  said 
a  burly  sergeant  as  the  "wagon"  arrived. 

Mr.  Franz  Mueller  stood  outside  Pernod's 
buffet  at  91st  street  and  Commercial  avenue. 
Across  the  street  the  first  of  the  departing  throng 
poured  from  Lincoln  hall  where  the  Lincoln  So- 
cial club  was  holding  an  "Informal  Ball  and 
Prize  Waltzing  Contest."  It  was  1:00  a.  m., 
and,  Pernod's  having  closed,  Mr.  Mueller  was 
thinking  of  returning  to  his  home. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  a  couple 
passed  in  the  glare  of  a  show  window  decorated 
for  the  Christmas  trade.  Mr.  Mueller  started 
in  surprise,  for  a  blue  silk  dress  and  black  and 
white  picture  hat  showed  strikingly  in  the  glare 
of  the  electrics. 

"Well,  if  there  ain't  Pete  Hart's  little  kid," 
soliloquized  Mr.  Mueller.  "Pretty  httle  kid; 
awful  raw,  but  she'll  educate  fast.  Watch  Uncle 
Franz  put  Ollie  next  to  the  city  game."  The  rest 
trailed  off  into  silence  as  the  girl  and  man  paused 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  45 

beneath  an  electric  sign  that  bore  the  simple 
legend — "hotel." 

The  girl  hesitated  a  moment  and  turned  in  an 
undecided  manner.  Then  Mr.  Mueller  caught 
the  end  of  an  unnatural  (high)  pitched  sentence: 

" —  they'll  get  your  goat  if  you  do."  The  man 
said  something  in  the  girl's  ear  and  a  moment 
later  the  brass-studded  door  closed  behind  them. 

Mr.  Mueller  stared  hard  at  the  departing 
throng  that  crowded  the  sidewalk  before  Lincoln 
hall.  Mr.  Mueller  rolled  a  cigarette  abstractedly 
and  finally  Mr.  Mueller  stepped  aboard  a  city- 
bound  street  car.  The  conductor  caught  an  in- 
distinct phrase  as  Mr.  Mueller  paid  his  fare: 

"Two  days  in  the  city" — he  stiffened — 
^'graduated,  hy  gad'' 


The  above  is  an  actual  experience  reported  t® 
the  Juvenile  Protective  League  by  a  South  Chi- 
cago mother.  Investigators  are  at  present  look- 
ing for  the  girl. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Tragedy  of  Stefa^  the  Lpttle 
Immigrant. 

T  WAS  a  difficult  situation  for  Stefania 
Zradzka,  twenty-one  years  old,  late  of  this 
earth.  In  the  nrst  place  she  faced  an  imminenl; 
and  nameless  maternity.  In  the  second  she  was 
without  friends,  without  relatives  and  without 
money.  In  the  third  her  employer,  a  respectable 
sweatshop  proprietor,  felt  that  the  convention- 
alities called  upon  him  to  discharge  her. 

Therefore,  Stefania,  after  writing  a  little 
note,  paying  her  board  bill,  and  kissing  the  chil- 
dren of  her  landlady  good-bye,  sat  down  on  a 
bench  in  Humboldt  park  one  recent  night  and 
drank  carbolic  acid.  Two  park  officers  found 
her  body  next  morning — one  hand  still  clasping 
a  child's  amulet  which  had  been  given  her  by 
her  mother,  the  other  holding  a  cheap  handbag. 
The  handbag  contained  forty  cents  and  a  prayer 
book. 

The  note  which  Stefania  left  explained  much. 
Jennie  Kloskowski,  the  daughter  of  Stefania's 
landlady,  explained  more.     And  what  neither 

46 


When  the  Park  Policemen  found  her,  her  half-frozen  hand  still 
held  the  leather  amulet  which  had  been  given 

her  by  the  mother  in  Poland. 
(The  Tragedy  of  Stefa,  the  Little  Immigrant.) 


If  her  mother  does  her  duty,  this  girl  in  the  innocence  of  youth 
will  not  hecome  the  easy  prey  of  lustful  men. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  47 

made  clear,  the  average  man  can  explain  for 
himself. 

Jennie  Kloskowski  found  the  note  some  hours 
after  Stefania  had  gone.  She  translated  it  that 
afternoon. 

"Dear  Jennie;  dear  Mrs.  Kloskowski:  I 
have  had  many  troubles  out  of  which  I  can- 
not get.  Because  of  this  I  am  going  away. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  will  come  back  or 
not.  If  I  come  back  I  will  pay  for  the 
storage  of  my  trunk.  If  I  don't,  I  am  bid- 
ding you  good-bye  forever.  Either  keep 
my  photograph  of  my  mother  or  send  it  to 
her.  You,  Mrs.  Kloskowski,  have  been  just 
like  a  mother  to  me. 

"I  expect  to  become  the  mother  of  a  child 
in  two  months.  I  wanted  to  live  for  the 
sake  of  the  child,  but  I  have  no  money  and 
I  cannot  work.  Therefore  there  is  no  way 
of  getting  out  of  my  troubles.  Good-bye, 
then.  Steffa.^^ 

"  'Stefa'  was  our  pet  name  for  her,"  explained 
the  translator.  "We  loved  her."  Then,  from 
the  defensive  lips  of  her  friend,  there  grudgingly 
came  the  story  of  Stefania's  death. 

She  came  to  America  three  years  ago  from 
Galicva,   Poland.      That   is   where   her   mother 


48  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

lives  now.  The  immigration  laws  let  the  daugh- 
ter in  because  she  was  able  to  produce  evidence 
of  a  "male  relative" — in  this  case  a  cousin  living 
at  1433  Cleaver  street.  Having  stood  voucher 
for  Stefania's  entrance,  the  cousin  felt  his  duty 
had  been  fulfilled,  and  the  girl  was  left  to  her 
own  resources. 

They  consisted  of  good  looks,  health,  industry, 
and  a  childish  faith  in  human  nature.  She  went 
to  work  in  a  lower  State  street  sweatshop,  or,  to 
put  it  more  politely,  tailoring  establishment.  The 
first  year  she  made  fifty  cents  a  day.  The  second 
she  made  $5  a  week.  The  last  she  made  $35  a 
month. 

It  was  then  that  she  felt  sufficiently  prosper- 
ous to  take  from  the  city  the  pleasures  that  are 
the  inalienable  right  of  its  citizens.  She  bought 
a  few  yards  of  yellow  silk.  With  deft  fingers 
she  transformed  the  strips  of  cloth  into  an  imi- 
tation of  the  beautiful  gown  she  had  watched  a 
wax  divinity  wear  so  stunningly  in  the  window 
of  the  Star  Ladies'  Tailoring  Company. 

Garbed  in  this  creation,  with  a  cloth  rose  in 
her  hair,  she  went  to  her  first  dance.  It  was 
held  at  Imperial  hall.  Stefa  didn't  have  a  com- 
panion. She  went  by  street  car,  paid  her  own 
fare,  bought  her  own  ticket  for  fifty  cents — 
although  she  had  read  the  handbills  without  envy 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  49 

— "gentlemen  with  escorts,  fifty  cents,  ladies 
free." 

For  three  dances  she  stood  at  the  door  and 
tried  to  ignore  the  smiles  of  the  more  fortunate 
members  of  her  sex.  Then  the  great  event  came. 
A  red-faced  youth,  with  a  scar,  walked  up  to 
her  and  said,  "Come  on,  kid."  Stei  i  danced. 
Stefa  danced  more  gracefully  than  most  of  the 
girls  in  the  hall.  In  some  parts  of  the  old  coun- 
try Terpischore  is  revered  as  a  god.  Stefa's 
first  triumph  was  the  signal  for  a  host  of  invita- 
tions from  other  j^oung  men.  But  she  felt  a 
pecuhar  loyalty  for  the  youth  with  the  scar  who 
had  said  "Come  on,  kid." 

Stefa  danced  out  the  evening  with  the  youth 
with  the  scar.  He  started  home  with  her  and 
rode  as  far  as  his  street.  He  took,  her  address. 
The  season  was  pretty  far  gone,  but  he  called 
for  her  regularly  and  took  her  to  the  hall  twice 
a  week  until  the  season  was  finished. 

It  was  during  the  last  that  slie  fell  in  love,  and 
being  firmly  convinced  that  she  was  loved  with 
equal  sincerity,  asked  nothing  more.  Thus,  in 
the  course  of  time  slie  found  herself  hanging  in 
midair,  with  a  long,  long  drop  below  and  nothing 
in  particular  above.  Also,  she  was  no  longer  in 
love. 

In  March  she  moved  to  the  residence  of  Mrs. 
A.  Kuszerka,  who  fives  at  the  head  of  a  preter- 


50  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

naturally  dark  flight  of  stairs  at  876  Milwaukee 
avenue.  Mrs.  Kuszerka  is  a  midwife.  They 
have  midwives  in  Poland.  After  two  months 
Stefania  told  Mrs.  Kuszerka  of  her  situation. 

Mrs.  Kuszerka  gave  no  aid.  Instead,  she  be- 
came greatly  frightened,  and  advised  Stefania 
that  her  i  jom  was  wanted.    So  Stefania  moved. 

In  August  she  arrived  at  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Kloskowski.  By  that  time  she  was  in  a  state 
of  intermittent  terror.  Frequently  she  would 
be  compelled  to  leave  her  dinner  on  account  of  a 
fit  of  trembling.  At  night  she  lay  awake  and 
cried.  The  Kloskowskis  made  no  inquiries;  she 
was  a  good  lodger,  paid  her  $4  a  week  for  board 
and  room  without  question,  and  made  little 
trouble. 

Not  until  four  weeks  later  did  she  confide  in 
them.  She  was  compelled  to.  She  could  no 
longer  work  every  day  and  the  reduction  in  her 
wages  necessitated  a  reduction  in  living  expenses. 
Mrs.  Kloskowski  lowered  her  rent  to  $3  a  week 
and  offered  to  make  it  $2  when  Stefania  could 
work  no  longer.  JMore  than  this  ]Mrs.  Kloskow- 
ski could  not  do. 

One  day  Stefania  came  home  crying.  She 
had  been  discharged.  The  forewoman  had  taken 
pains  to  tell  her  why.  Stefania  spent  ^londay 
afternoon  and  Tuesday  morning  in  search  of 
work.    She  did  not  find  it.    She  did  find  a  num- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  51 

ber  of  brutal  rebuffs  and  candid  opinions.  Tues- 
day afternoon  at  2  o'clock  she  gave  Mrs.  Klos- 
kowski  $3. 

"That  will  pay  my  board  until  tomorrow,"  she 
said.  "Maybe  I'll  get  a  job  by  then."  Then 
she  kissed  Mrs.  Kloskowski's  four  children,  one 
after  another,  and  went  out. 

When  the  park  policeman  found  her,  her  hand, 
half  frozen,  still  held  the  leather  amulet,  which, 
says  Minnie  Kloskowski,  had  been  given  her  by 
the  mother  in  Poland.  On  it  was  a  spot — a 
small  acid  burn.    Stefania,  dying,  had  kissed  it. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Tragedy  or  the  Young  Mother. 

THE  lights  of  Roosevelt  hall  burned  dimly 
and  hazily  through  a  dense  fog  of  tobacco 
smoke.  It  was  11:30  o'clock  and  Saturday 
night,  and  the  semi-annual  dance  of  the  Cheroot 
Workers'  Benevolent  association  was  in  full 
swing. 

The  fourth  dance  was  in  progress,  a  waltz,  and 
several  hundred  couples  hopped,  dipped,  slid, 
walked  and  pushed  their  boisterous  way  about 
the  dance  floor,  to  an  accompaniment  that  re- 
flected the  supreme  carelessness  of  the  dancers. 
The  dance  general  was  at  its  height  and  there 
was  laughter,  music,  gayety  and  song;  also,  the 
bar  on  the  second  floor  and  the  tables,  which 
provided  a  cool  retreat  from  the  fetid  atmosphere 
of  the  dance  floor. 

Two  staii-ways  led  down  from  the  dance  hall 
to  the  second  floor,  and  two  streams  of  thirsty 
humanity  flowed  incessantly  up  and  do^vn.  The 
night  was  warm,  the  air  in  the  dance  hall  was 
bad  and  the  beer  was  cool.  The  combination 
could  not  but  redound  to  the  financial  benefit  of 
the  far-seeing  gentlemen  who  had  placed  the  bar 
in  such  close  proximity  to  Roosevelt  hall  proper. 

52 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  53 

To  its  patrons  of  a  few  years  back,  Roosevelt 
hall  retains  the  familiar  sobriquet  it  merited  by 
years  of  conscientious  effort  in  the  interest  of 
the  element  it  represents.  The  Brand's  Hall 
"Madhouse"  or  simply  "the  Panic,"  it  was  some- 
times called. 

But  Brand's  hall  of  old  has  been  renamed  and 
Roosevelt  hall  it  is,  probably  in  recognition  of 
the  strenuous  dances  it  has  housed.  Roosevelt 
hall  is  popular  and  Roosevelt  hall  and  its  clien- 
tele supports  seven  weekly  dances — one  for  every 
evening  of  the  week  and  for  Sunday. 

Roosevelt  hall  is  known  as  a  "two-bit  dance" 
and  an  evening's  enjoyment  of  the  dance  and 
"what  goes  with  it"  may  be  had  for  the  nominal 
sum  of  twenty-five  cents  per  capita. 

It  is  a  popular  hall  for  "club  dances"  or  other 
affairs  run  by  societies  and  organizations  of  a 
certain  class.  The  rental  is  extremely  reason- 
able and  the  hall  can  be  secured  at  a  much  lower 
cost  than  that  attendant  upon  the  engagement 
of  much  smaller  halls  of  the  city.  The  hall  is 
situated  on  Clark  street,  the  main  thoroughfare 
of  the  north  side,  two  doors  south  of  Erie  street 
and  owes  much  of  its  popularity  to  its  convenient 
location. 

One  may  drop  in  at  Roosevelt  hall  at  any 
hour  of  the  evening  regardless  of  dress  and  con- 
ventions and  be  assured  of  a  cordial  welcome. 


54  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

always  providing  that  he  dances  or  has  money 
to  spend  at  the  tables  on  the  second  floor,  pref- 
erably the  latter.  Assuming  that  you  are  a  gen- 
tleman and  of  fairly  prosperous  appearance, 
your  welcome  is  sure  to  be  friendly. 

Should  your  presence  be  that  of  a  good-look- 
ing, fair  or  passable  appearing  young  woman 
the  welcome  might  and  probably  would  be  al- 
most enthusiastic.  Young  men  of  the  sort  that 
patronize  Roosevelt  hall  regularly  go  to  the  pub- 
lic dance  with  the  idea  of  meeting,  dancing  and 
drinking  with  young  girls  of  good  or  promising 
physical  appearance.  Meeting  or  "picking  up" 
the  girl  is  the  primary  business  of  the  evening; 
drinking  on  the  second  floor  where  the  bar  caters 
to  all  stages  of  youth  with  equal  impartiality,  is 
the  accepted  method  of  furthering  the  ephemeral 
acquaintance  of  the  evening  and  dancing,  quite 
naturally,  becomes  a  secondary  consideration. 

Merely  to  dance  in  a  public  dance  hall  is  ex- 
treme bad  form  and  is  not  conducive  to  popu- 
larity among  either  the  masculine  or  feminine 
contingent. 

The  bar  is  an  institution,  a  channel  of  ac- 
quaintance for  the  man  bent  on  "picking  up" 
and  for  the  girl  expecting  to  be  the  one  "picked." 
Occasionally  a  girl  appears  at  Roosevelt  hall 
whose  purpose  is  to  dance  and  that  only. 

She  may  be  out  of  place  but  is  welcome,  for 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  55 

there  are  any  number  of  educators  on  hand,  will- 
ing and  even  eager  to  "put  her  wise." 

The  semi-annual  dance  of  the  Cheroot  Work- 
ers' Benevolent  association  was  well  attended, 
for  it  was  on  such  occasions  that  an  unusual  pro- 
portion of  "chicken"  appeared  in  Roosevelt  hall. 

The  atmosphere  of  Roosevelt  hall,  aside  from 
its  artificial  haze  and  odor,  was  one  of  extreme 
informality.  On  the  dance  floor  the  "gentlemen" 
danced  with  or  without  their  coats,  as  suited  their 
fancy  best.  In  the  balcony  they  lounged  at  ease 
with  "ladies"  whose  demeanor  gave  forth  evi- 
dence of  the  fact  that  they  had  been  "picked  up." 
On  the  second  floor,  the  spirit  of  "let-'er-go-Gal- 
lagher"  was  supreme.  Among  the  ladies  and 
gentlemen  of  the  Roosevelt  hall  persuasion,  per- 
sonal liberties  and  unwarranted  familiarities  are 
the  accepted  thing,  a  diversion  and,  if  the  vul- 
garity is  acceptable,  a  "leading  argument." 

Of  course,  as  in  all  things,  there  is  a  denoue- 
ment and  an  accepted  one.  That  fact  became 
immediately  apparent  when  the  Outsider,  a  gen- 
tleman of  fairly  prosperous  appearance,  found 
his  plans  for  the  evening  stay  at  Roosevelt  hall 
identified  with  those  of  Kitty,  a  "regular," 
through  the  convenient  channel  of  the  second 
floor  pavilion. 

On  the  dance  floor  he  met  her,  and  the  ac- 
quaintance began  with  a  nod  of  recognition  from 


56  FROM  DANCE  HAJLL 

the  girl.  Whether  she  recognized  him  in  good 
faith  or  not  is  a  neghgible  consideration.  Suffi- 
cient that  she  "picked  him  up"  and  that  he  ap- 
peared able  to  purchase  drinks  on  the  second 
floor  at  frequent  intervals. 

A  dance  number  of  five  minutes'  duration 
made  the  immediate  need  pressing  and  they  "fol- 
lowed the  crowd"  to  the  stairway  and  thence  to 
the  "life-saving  station."  At  a  table  in  the  cor- 
ner, the  Outsider  manifested  no  immediate  de- 
sire to  leave  and  Kitty  sat  back  for  the  develop- 
ment of  the  evening's  "business."  Kitty  ap- 
peared to  be  about  twenty  years  of  age  and  of 
fairly  good  appearance.  She  was  dressed  neatly 
and  wore  several  conspicuous  pieces  of  cheap 
jewelry  with  an  air. 

"What  will  it  be,  Kitty?"  asked  the  Outsider 
— he  had  received  her  name. 

"Beer  and  tell  him  to  gather  the  wool,"  an- 
swered the  vis-a-vis  tersely.  All  the  "ladies"  of 
Roosevelt  hall  object  to  a  "high  collar"  or  a 
considerable  quantity  of  foam  on  their  beer.  The 
drinks  were  brought  and  Kitty  devoted  herself 
'to  the  main  business  for  a  moment  in  silence, 
emerging  finally  to  ask,  "Are  j^ou  dancing  the 
string?" 

"Hardly,"  answered  the  Outsider.  "What  do 
you  suppose  I  came  up  here  for?" 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  57 

"Oh,  to  pick  up  a  chicken  I  suppose?  What 
are  you  after?" 

"You'll  do,  so  far,"  said  the  other,  diplomat- 
ically.   Kitty  smiled  cynically. 

"Suit  yourself,  little  man,"  she  answered,  care- 
lessly.   "I'm  on  if  you  say  so." 

"That's  a  bit  unbusinesslike,"  answered  the 
Outsider  in  surprise,  for  Kitty  did  not  trouble 
herself  to  assume  the  attitude  of  cajolery  of  the 
"ladies"  of  Roosevelt  hall  usually  brought  into 
play  when  a  "night  out"  was  in  question. 

"Well,  I'm  tired  tonight.  Been  at  it  steady 
all  week  and  this  crowd's  a  frost,  anyhow,"  said 
the  girl,  wearily.  "I  wasn't  going  to  come  at 
all  and  I  shouldn't  have  left  him  alone  tonight." 

"Left  who?"  inquired  the  Outsider,  quickly. 
Kitty  looked  up  in  a  startled  manner  and  her 
dull  brown  eyes  took  on  a  gleam  of  caution.  She 
looked  her  companion  over  carefully. 

"Well,  it's  none  of  your  business  and  I  know 
it,  but  I  think  I'll  spill  the  story  if  you  want  to 
know,"  she  answered  with  a  sort  of  determined 
recldessness.  "My  kid's  sick,  been  sick  for  a 
week,  and  I  guess  he'll  kick  in  pretty  soon  un- 
less— oh,  what's  the  use  of  figuring  things  out 
when  they're  impossible,"  she  stopped  and  the 
questioner  was  silent,  for  the  girl's  manner  de- 
nied questioning.  Slowly  she  glanced  about  the 
room,  rather  disdainfully,  and  the  Outsider  no- 


58  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

ticed  that  her  hand  was  clenched  tightly  over  a 
small  gold  locket. 

A  fresh  drink  was  ordered  and  the  girl  looked 
up  with  a  slightly  reawakened  interest.  Her 
hand  toyed  nervously  with  the  heavy  beer  glass 
and  she  glanced  reflectively  at  a  boisterous  cou- 
ple who  were  embracing  each  other  with  a  fine 
disregard  for  the  presence  of  others. 

"Do  you  know  how  long  I've  been  'husthng' 
here  and  on  the  street?"  she  asked  suddenly.  The 
Outsider  noticed  that  her  face  was  pale  and  that 
there  were  strange  patches  of  color  on  her  thin 
cheeks. 

"No." 

"Two  months,"  she  said  slowly.  "Two  months 
ago  I  wouldn't  have  known  where  this  hole  was 
and  now "  The  sentence  trailed  off  into  si- 
lence and  the  girl  stared  blanklj^  before  her.  The 
attitude  was  new  and  the  Outsider  glanced  at 
her  in  surprise.  Kitty  straightened  in  her  chair 
and  went  on. 

"I'm  a  married  woman  and  I've  got  a  child. 
I'm  a  legally  married  woman  and  my  child  is 
a  legal  child,"  she  repeated  almost  defiantly.  "I 
was  a  dressmaker  and  still  work  downtown,  but 
I  can't  support  a  sick  child  on  $7  a  week.  Don't 
look  so  surprised.  There's  plenty  more  here 
who  are  married  and  have  kids." 

"How  did  you  start  this  game?" 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  59 

"Well,  you  ought  to  know.  I've  lived  on  the 
north  side  all  my  life.  Born  right  around  on 
Chicago  avenue  and  I've  lived  there  ever  since. 
Father  and  mother  both  dead — my  mother  died 
last  month  and  I  was  at  this  hall  then." 

"Where's  your  husband?"  asked  the  other. 

"My  husband?"  she  laughed,  as  if  at  a  great 
joke.  "Why  he's  probably  at  some  other  dance 
buying  the  drinks  for  some  poor  little  kid  just 
out  of  short  dresses  who  thinks  he's  in  love  with 
her.  Do  you  know  where  Twenty-second  street 
is?  Well,  my  man  lives  there,  and  when  he 
needs  the  coin  he  buys  a  ticket  to  the  Button- 
workers'  ball  or  the  Teamsters'  dance  and  grabs 
off  some  little  girl  who  drinks  too  much  and — 
you  know  what  happens  to  her. 

"I've  been  there  and  I  wouldn't  be  here  if  I 
hadn't  met  him.  Still,  I  don't  know,"  and  she 
laughed  again.  "If  it  hadn't  been  him  it  would 
have  been  some  one  else.  You  can't  dodge  them 
fellows  if  you  have  any  looks  and  like  to  dance. 
You  can  dodge  them  for  awhile,  but  they're  like 
the  undertaker — they'll  nail  you  in  the  end." 

The  music  upstairs  had  started  and  many  of 
the  couples  at  the  table  got  up  and  left  the 
room.  At  an  adjoining  table  a  young  man  was 
carrying  on  a  low-toned  conversation  with  a  girl 
whose  face  was  flushed  and  who  laughed  giddily 
as  he  pulled  her  arm.    Kitty  stared  at  them  fix- 


60  FROM  DANCE  HAI.L 

edly  and  her  companion  surprised  a  look  of  pity 
on  her  face. 

"Well,  what  next?"  queried  the  Outsider.  The 
girl  turned  slowly  and  raised  her  glass  of  beer. 
She  gazed  broodingly  into  its  depths  and  looked 
her  companion  full  in  the  face  after  a  pause  of 
several  moments. 

"Yes,  he  got  me  at  a  dance.  I  was  working 
downtown  in  the  ribbons.  I  was  18  years  old  and 
the  only  fun  I  got  was  the  dances.  I  went  to 
a  hop  at  Turner  hall  on  Clark  street  one  night 
with  another  girl  in  the  neighborhood.  There 
she  is,"  pointing  to  the  girl  who  sat  beside  the 
^^oung  man  and  laughed  foolishly.  The  girl 
turned  at  this  moment  and  winked  craftily  at 
Kitty.  The  latter  smiled  and  held  up  three  fin- 
gers. The  other  girl  nodded  and  Kitty  resumed 
her  story. 

"The  dance  was  run  by  a  gang  of  German 
singers  and  my  man  had  a  committee  badge  on 
No,  he  didn't  belong  to  the  singing  club,  but  a 
badge  helps  a  lot  at  a  dance  when  you're  out 
after  something.  Anyhow,  he  danced  a  couple 
of  dances  with  me  and  I  fell  for  his  line  of  talk. 
He  kept  buying  drinks  and  the  bar  was  handy, 
so  I  was  piffled  about  midnight. 

"I  didn't  go  home  that  night  and  neither  did 
she,"  pointing  to  the  other  girl  who,  at  the  mo- 
ment was  clinking  glasses  with  her  companion. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  61 

"Well,  I  stuck  with  him  for  quite  a  while  and 
we  were  married.  He  tried  to  put  me  in  a  place 
after  that  and  I  found  out  that  he  married  me 
because  he  didn't  want  to  run  chances  of  getting 
the  government  after  him  as  a  white  slaver.  I 
'hustled'  for  him  for  one  week  on  Clark  street 
and  then  he  left  me.  That  was  a  year  ago  and 
right  after  my  baby  was  born. 

"I  went  home  to  my  mother  with  the  kid  and 
she  took  me  in  without  a  word,  although  I  hadn't 
seen  her  in  a  year,"  the  girl's  eyes  filled  sus- 
piciously and  her  hand  closed  convulsively  over 
the  gold  locket.  The  Outsider's  eyes  were  on 
the  cheap  little  trinket.  She  tucked  it  into  the 
bosom  of  her  waist. 

"Yes,  that's  his  picture,"  she  answered  the  un- 
spoken question  almost  in  challenge.  "Why 
shouldn't  I  keep  it?  It's  the  only  thing  I've 
got  except  the  kid."  Her  face  softened  won- 
derfully and  the  unnatural  blotches  of  color  grew 
fainter.  She  opened  the  locket  slowly  and  an 
evilly  handsome  face  looked  out — the  face  of  the 
professional  "procurer."  But  Kitty  stared  at  it 
without  resentment,  almost  tenderly.  It  is  a 
pathetic  paradox  that  the  depth  of  a  woman's 
betrayal  is  often  on  a  ratio  with  her  regard  for 
the  cause  of  her  fall. 

The  music  stopped  upstairs  and  the  dancers 
flocked  down  again  to  the  tables.    The  vanguard 


62  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

of  those  "dated"  had  begun  to  leave.  The  Out- 
sider stirred  restlessly  and  his  companion  closed 
the  locket  with  a  hard  snap. 

"That's  about  all,"  she  said  finally,  but  con- 
tinued: "I  got  a  job  and  tried  to  make  a  living 
for  the  kid  and  myself  without  this,"  she  waved 
a  thin  hand  about  her,  "but  it  was  no  go.  The 
mother  had  a  little  money,  but  only  enough  to 
keep  her,  and  one  night  I  strolled  down  Clark 
street  and  in  here.  A  fellow  'picked  me  up'  and 
I  saw  that  I  could  make  $25  a  week  here,  so 
I've  been  at  it  for  a  little  over  two  months.  The 
mother  died  last  month.  She  thought  that  I  had 
got  a  raise  in  salary  and  was  able  to  keep  the 
kid  and  myself" — she  laughed  even  more  bitter- 
ly. The  Outsider  started.  Her  eyes  were  gleam- 
ing and  her  breast  heaved.  Across  her  forehead 
was  a  fine  network  of  lines.  She  coughed  inter- 
mittently behind  her  hand  and  followed  each 
spasm  with  a  draught  of  beer. 

Kitty  caught  his  expression,  glanced  at  the 
clock  on  the  wall  that  pointed  to  12:55  p.  m.  and 
turned  to  her  companion  with  a  reckless  laugh. 

"Another  drink  and  we're  through  for  the 
night,  little  man.  Nothing  to  do  till  tomorrow. 
Gee,  but  we're  a  happy  pair."  The  Outsider 
produced  a  package  of  cigarettes  and  she 
stretched  forth  a  hand  for  one.    She  lit  the  paper 


The  tragic  climax  of  this  young  life  was  not  reached  in  one 

step,    but    led    there    hy    easy    stages    through    the 

fascination    of   the    dance    hall.      (The 

Tragedy  of  the  Young  Mother.) 


The  lure  of  the  dance  with  the  mask's  concern juient  nas  led  to 
many  a  snare  with  a  tragedy  at  the  last. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  63 

stick  and  puffed  surreptitiously  at  the  pungent 
weed.    A  fit  of  coughing  seized  her. 

"Yes,  I  guess  I'm  done  for,"  she  said  as  the 
drinks  were  brought.  "I  saw  a  doctor  months 
ago  and  he  told  me  what  this  game  would  do  for 
me,  but  what  could  I  do?  I've  got  the  'con'  and 
I  know  it,  but  I  can't  reserve  a  special  train  for 
Denver.  Let's  finish  this  drink  and  get  out  of 
here;  I've  got  a  date  and  I  got  to  kee})  it.  I'm 
sorry  to  ditch  you  this  way,  but  there's  plenty 
more  of  'em  upstairs.  I'd  like  to  go  out  with 
you,  but  'previous  engagement,'  you  know,"  and 
she  smiled  with  a  gayety  that  seemed  to  lose 
some  of  its  forcedness.  At  the  doorway  the  Out- 
sider stretched  out  a  hand  and  Kitty  looked  at  it 
suspiciously. 

"For  the  kid,"  he  said  in  an  undertone,  and 
she  gripped  the  hand  tightly.  A  two-dollar  bill 
showed  for  an  instant  and  one  of  the  passing 
"ladies"  smiled  at  her  sister  "worker."  There 
were  real  tears  in  the  young  mother's  eyes  as  she 
turned  uncertainly  to  the  stairway. 

On  the  dance  floor  the  Outsider  confirmed  the 
statement  that  there  were  "plenty  more  of  'em 
upstairs."  Two  "ladies"  were  actually  shaken 
off  on  the  way  to  the  wardrobe.  The  dance  was 
nearing  its  close  and  an  undated  night  was  a 
calamity  for  these  dubious  divinities  of  "the 
Panic."    Outside,  Clark  street  was  full  of  noise 


64  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

and  life.  After  a  time  the  Outsider  descended 
to  the  street  in  proximity  to  the  girl  and  the 
young  man  who  had  occupied  the  adjoining 
table. 

They  stopped  occasionally  to  push  each  other 
playfully  against  the  wall  or  to  dance  "the  griz- 
zly bear"  on  the  landings.  As  the  sidewalk  was 
reached  the  Outsider  heard,  "That's  the  fellow 

Kitty  had  cornered "    He  turned  south  and 

the  couple  followed. 

Down  Clark  street  the  clang  of  a  police  ambu- 
lance sounded  and  the  Outsider  noticed  a  crowd 
on  the  sidewalk  before  a  drug  store  at  the  cor- 
ner of  Ontario  street.  He  entered  the  pharmacy 
in  company  with  a  brisk,  young  ambulance  sur- 
geon and  a  policeman. 

"What's  the  trouble  here?"  queried  the  doc- 
tor as  the  crowd  fell  back  to  allow  all  three  to 
enter. 

"Looks  like  suicide.  Doc,"  said  the  drug  clerk, 
pointing  to  an  inert  figure  in  bedraggled  skirts 
on  the  floor. 

The  figure  stiffened  slightly  and  from  behind 
the  set  lips  came  a  single  sentence :  "He's  dead 
— and  me  with  the  rounders,"  the  Outsider 
winced.  "Harry,  mother,  the  kid's  dead,"  and 
the  dull  brown  eyes  opened  a  moment  and  fas- 
tened themselves  full  on  the  Outsider's  face. 

Then  the  head  fell  back.    The  ambulance  sur- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  65 

geon  arose  and  carefully  dusted  the  knees  of  his 
trousers. 

"Cyanide,"  he  announced.  "Where  did  she 
get  it?"  The  drug  clerk  turned  a  startled  gaze 
at  the  policeman  who  had  produced  a  notebook 
and  pencil. 

"Why,  I  sold  it  to  her,  but  she  had  a  pre- 
scription," he  answered  as  the  policeman's  pencil 
traveled  rapidly  over  the  notebook.  "Is  she 
dead?" 

"Can't  you  see?"  said  the  ambulance  doctor, 
impatiently,  as  he  set  down  his  case  and  adjusted 
the  stretcher.  A  game  of  pitch  was  waiting  in 
the  stationhouse  on  Chicago  avenue  and  the  dis- 
agreeable business  of  the  evening  was  best  over 
with  quickly.  The  prescription  was  produced 
by  the  frightened  drug  clerk  and  the  name 
"Kitty  Stone"  secured  as  the  inert  figure  on  the 
floor  was  carried  out  to  the  ambulance. 

"Does  anybody  here  know  her?"  asked  the  po- 
liceman, as  he  noted  the  facts  for  his  report. 
The  Outsider  started  suddenly  and  pushed  for- 
ward. 

"I  know  her,"  he  said  rather  wildly,  for  the 
picture  of  a  dark,  evilly  handsome  man  was  be- 
fore his  eyes,  staring  out  of  a  cheap  gold  locket. 

"Who  is  she?"  said  the  policeman,  glancing 
suspiciously  at  the  man  before  him. 

"She's  a  young  mother,"  answered  the  Out- 


66  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

sider,  then  broke  off  and  ended  lamely,  "that's 
all  I  know."  The  officer  glared  at  him  and  told 
him  of  "a  notion  he  had  to  run  him  in."  The 
Outsider  retreated. 

The  officer  returned  to  his  notebook. 

"You  say  she  paid  for  the  stuff  with  a  two- 
dollar  bill  after  she  had  asked  for  a  phone  slug?" 

"She  used  the  telephone  before  she  bought  the 
dope,"  answered  the  drug  clerk. 

The  ambulance  surgeon  put  his  head  out  the 
rear  door  of  the  backed-up  conveyance  and 
yelled : 

"Come  on,  Mike;  she's  nothing  but  a  httle 
'Tommy,'  and  she  had  the  'con'  anyhow.  Never 
mind  all  that  dope.  They  never  have  any  friends 
around." 

The  ambulance  clattered  down  the  street  with 
^  clang.  The  Outsider  walked  slowly  north.  He 
stopped  on  the  sidewalk  before  Roosevelt  hall 
and  glanced  up  at  the  lighted  windows. 

"They  never  have  any  friends  around,"  sang 
incessantly  through  his  head. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Wall  Flower. 

AGNES  was  lonely.  Even  to  herself  she 
admitted  it,  but  always  with  a  sanguine 
regard  for  the  future. 

Aggie  was  a  clerk  in  a  department  store  on 
State  street  and  Aggie's  $4  per  week  with  "P, 
M.'s"  permitted  of  a  few  diversions.  The  "P. 
M.'s*'  represented  commission  sales  over  and 
above  a  certain  amount.  Some  weeks  Aggie's 
salary  ran  as  high  as  $9,  but  such  weeks  were  in 
the  minority. 

Usually,  the  weekly  salary  hovered  between 
$5  and  $7  and  in  consequence  her  amusements 
were  limited  to  an  occasional  vaudeville  show 
and  a  dance  once  and  sometimes  twice  a  week. 
Aggie  listened  in  wonder  as  the  other  girls  told 
with  a  gusto  how  they  "tlu'ew  him  down  flat'*  or 
"ditched  him  on  a  dance  an'  he  was  awful  sore." 
It  was  a  source  of  wonder  to  her  that  any  girl 
could  be  so  foolhardy  and  reckless  as  to  "throw 
her  steady  down"  or  even  to  "ditch"  an  uninter- 
esting partner  on  a  dance.  But  then  Aggie  was 
lonely. 

In  the  store  Agnes  occupied  a  place  only  as 

67 


68  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

an  efficient  clerk  of  fair  appearance  and  as  a 
sympathetic  confidence.  Her  dress  was  neat  and 
she  was  attentive,  but  somehow,  she  lacked  that 
all  important  "way  with  her"  and  therein  was 
fomid  the  reason  for  her  place  among  the  mural 
decorations. 

Aggie  was  not  bad-looking.  Even  her  fellow 
clerks  in  the  store  would  have  admitted  this  had 
it  been  brought  to  their  attention  by  an  outsider. 
She  was  small  and  slender,  almost  thin,  with 
really  beautiful  chestnut  broMH  hair  and  eyes  of 
placidity.  Her  features  were  slightly  irregular, 
but  good  and  her  infrequent  smile  revealed  a 
double  row  of  white  teeth.  Aggie  was  neat  al- 
most to  the  point  of  "fussiness,"  but  she  pos- 
sessed little  of  that  indefinable  attribute  known 
to  one  people  as  "chic,"  to  another  as  "class." 

Aggie  usually  attended  the  Saturday  night 
dances  at  Columbia  Hall.  She  was  an  orphan 
and  alone  in  the  city  and  the  North  Clark  street 
hall  presented  an  opportunity  for  companion- 
ship with  her  kind  without  the  necessity  of  min- 
gling with  doubtful  elements.  Columbia  Hall  is 
a  "dancing  academy"  established,  as  its  manage- 
ment explains,  for  the  children  of  the  respectable 
average  and  the  untoward  effects  of  the  public 
dance  hall  are  felt  there  only  in  a  bare  minimum. 

Aggie  lived  on  La  Salle  avenue,  "v^athin  a 
few  blocks  of  the  hall,  and    whenever   possible 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  69 

she  seized  the  opportunity  of  attending  the 
dances.  But  Aggie  was  a  "wall-flower"  and  it 
was  only  on  "beginners'  night"  that  she  achieved 
any  degree  of  popularity  by  virtue  of  her  danc- 
ing ability.  She  was  not  a  really  proficient 
dancer,  but  she  did  as  well  as  the  average.  It 
soon  became  apparent  to  her,  however,  that  the 
average  young  man  does  not  attend  a  dance 
merely  for  the  pleasure  of  gliding  about  a  pol- 
ished floor. 

Aggie  was  something  of  a  philosopher  and 
she  reasoned  it  out  quite  logically,  that  your  gal- 
lant of  the  public  dance  hall  uses  the  public 
dance,  itself,  only  as  the  means  to  an  end — inti- 
mate association  with  the  members  of  the  oppo- 
site sex.  In  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose 
liis  range  of  selection  is  wide,  and  almost  any  in- 
dividual taste  may  be  satisfied  in  a  pubhc  dance 
ball  of  a  Saturday  evening. 

In  the  selection  Aggie  was  always  left  at  the 
post  or  rather  "at  the  wall."  The  young  man 
in  search  of  a  fair  charmer  picks  and  chooses 
with  an  eye  open  for  the  "live  ones." 

Nevertheless,  Saturday  night  was  Aggie's 
favorite  evening  at  the  dance.  Of  course,  she 
went  unescorted.  She,  herself,  would  have  been 
surprised  if  you  had  doubted  it.  She  always 
wore  the  same  costume,  a  dark  blue  skirt  and 
white  shirt  waist  and  among  the  "regulars  '  she 


70  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

had  become  known  as  the  "stagger"  and  the 
*'wall-flower  in  blue."  Aggie  danced  probably 
one  out  of  every  four  or  five  dances  and  she  al- 
ways stayed  until  the  program  had  been  con- 
cluded. And  she  enjoyed  herself,  for  it  was  a 
rehef  to  move  among  real  people,  to  dance,  if 
only  occasinonally,  to  talk,  though  rarely,  at 
length,  and  to  watch  others  enjoying  them- 
selves. 

The  ushers  and  the  floor  committees  at  the 
dances  did  yeoman  service  in  the  interest  of  the 
"wall-flowers"  and  on  fortunate  nights  Aggie 
sometimes  danced  as  many  as  half  the  number 
programmed.  The  music  was  good,  the  crowds 
good  natured  and  orderly,  no  liquor  was  sold  in 
the  building  or  adjacent  buildings,  and  a  spirit 
of  sociability  hung  over  the  weekly  gatherings. 

It  was  December  and  the  professor  announced 
by  way  of  a  novelty  a  Japanese  "Monnlight" 
dance,  reminiscent  of  the  departed  summer. 
Agnes  appeared  at  the  "Moonlight"  in  the  van- 
guard of  the  early  comers,  but  instead  of  the 
customaiy  dark  blue  skirt,  she  wore  a  rich  black 
voile  with  a  delicate  lace  waist  cut  low  in  front. 
The  effect  was  somewhat  startling.  It  made 
Aggie  looked  like  a  different  girl. 

It  was  Saturday.  The  "P.  IM.'s"  this  week 
had  brought  the  week's  salary  up  to  $8.50  and 
Aggie  felt  a  trifle  more  "live"  than    ordinarily. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  71 

The  substitution  of  her  clothes  for  the  accus- 
tomed combination  had  been  in  response  to  a 
whim,  but  Aggie  rejoiced  as  she  noted  the  sur- 
prised stares  of  recognition  accorded  her  by  the 
attaches  of  the  hall.  After  a  preliminary  swing 
about  the  hall  with  a  young  man,  introduced 
by  the  professor,  she  found  that  she  was  dancing 
with  a  new  confidence. 

The  dance  proved  a  real  novelty  and  a  suc- 
cess. The  management  had  installed  clouded 
arc-lights  to  give  the  effect  of  moonlight,  while  a 
myriad  of  winking  stars  appeared  against  a  blue 
field  in  the  ceiling. 

Peculiarly  enough  Aggie  had  filled  her  pro- 
gram long  before  the  middle  of  the  evening  on 
the  night  of  the  "moonlight."  In  the  wake  of  a 
young  man  with  whom  she  had  danced,  her 
Prince  Charming  appeared  for  an  introduction, 
the  "fellow"  who  would  rescue  her  from  the 
"wall."  He  was  a  dark,  quiet  man  of  probably 
30  years  of  age,  well  dressed,  courteous,  too  po- 
lite he  might  have  seemed  to  some. 

The  man  was  of  medium  height,  well  dressed, 
but  with  a  peculiar  cast  of  countenance.  His 
eyes  were  dark  and  inscrutable.  His  face,  save 
for  the  cynical  smile  that  hovered  constantly 
about  his  mouth,  was  expressionless. 

There  were  dark  shadows  under  his  eyes.  The 
corners  of  his  mouth  drooped.    In  contrast  with 


72  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

his  appearance  he  was  a  ready  and  rapid  talker 
with  a  slangy  expression  that  seemed  out  of 
keeping     with     his     quiet,     almost     dignified, 
appearance. 

When  not  dancing,  he  stood  at  one  side  of  the 
hall  'looking  'em  over,"  as  he  said,  with  the 
quiet,  cynical  smile  tliat  seemed  inseparable.  His 
manner  with  Aggie  was  extremely  courteous, 
but  his  conversation  was  familiar  to  a  degree 
that  was  surprising. 

"Do  you  hop,  Kiddo?"  he  asked  dui'ing  the 
second  dance  they  had  together. 

"Why,  no,"  said  Aggie  in  surprise.  "Do 
you?"  The  man  smiled,  still  cynical  and  gath- 
ered his  partner  close  in  a  step  that  was  daring 
for  Columbia  Hall. 

His  preference  for  the  "close"  style  of  dan- 
cing was  pronuonced  and  Aggie  met  it  a  bit  un- 
comfortably, but  she  overlooked  her  partner's 
familiarities  with  her  own  explanation  that  it 
was  "just  his  way." 

Later  in  the  evening  he  attempted  a  dance  to 
two-step  measure  that  caused  the  floor  manager 
to  look  sternly  in  his  direction.  The  man  caught 
the  look  and  smiled  his  tiresome,  cynical  smile. 

Aggie  had  found  herself  and  with  the  coming 
of  the  Man  it  seemed  that  she  was  destined  to 
escape  the  role  that  hitherto  had  been  hers. 
Gailv  she  danced  with  this  cavalier  of  the  crowds 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  73 

and  she  even  attempted  to  return  the  airy  per- 
siflage that  he  had  introduced.  He  was  indeed 
a  Prince  Charming  to  the  httle  shopgirl.  About 
his  attentive  courtesy  Aggie  had  woven  a  spell 
of  romantic  enchantment  before  the  evening  was 
over. 

The  evening  ended  quietly  and  orderly  as 
things  have  a  habit  of  ending  in  Columbia  Hall. 
Aggie's  cavaher  secured  her  light  wi'aps  and  to- 
gether they  sauntered  down  Clark  street.  Agnes 
chatted  gaily  and  her  companion  appeared  to 
listen  attentively.  In  a  Chinese  restaurant  they 
found  a  secluded  table  and  the  Man  seemed  to 
lose  some  of  his  cynicism  under  the  influence  of 
a  cigarette  and  a  cocktail. 

"Will  you  have  a  drink?"  he  asked  when  they 
were  seated.  Aggie  hesitated.  Her  companion 
smiled.  His  face  seemed  to  say  "Oh,  what 
could  I  expect?"  The  shopgirl  saw  and  re- 
sponded ;  she  had  renounced  all  claim  to  the  title 
of  "wall-flower."  She  shivered  almost  like  a 
puppy  in  her  haste  to  show  this  man  that  she 
was  a  "good  fellow." 

"Certainly,"  she  answered,  "but  something 
not  very  strong."  The  smile  this  time  was  of 
amusement.  The  Man  leaned  across  the  table 
and  took  Aggie's  hand  in  his. 

"You  know  I  wouldn't  hurt  you,"  he  said. 
*'That,"  pointing  to  her  glass,  "is  just  what  you 


r4  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

need.    No  wonder  you  never  had  any  fun.    You 
weren't  a  good  fellow." 

"Little  kid,"  he  said  after  a  pause,  with  a 
tremolo  voice  intended  to  express  tenderness, 
"little  kid,  I  guess  you  never  went  around  much 
with  any  fellow,  did  you?  No?  Well,  you  and 
I  are  going  to  see  a  few  things  before  the  night 
is  over  and  then  maybe  we'll  try  it  again  other 
nights  if  you  say  so.  Do  you  always  go  to  Co- 
lumbia Hall  alone?" 

Aggie  hesitated  at  telling  her  new  found  "fel- 
low" the  reason  why  she  went  unescorted  to  the 
dances.     Finally  truth  conquered. 

"What,"  she  replied  as  the  drinks  were 
brought.  "I  never  went  around  with  any  fel- 
lows here  in  Chicago,  but  I  love  to  dance  and  I 
go  to  the  hall  every  Saturday  night.  Most  of 
the  time,  though,  I  stick  pretty  close  to  the 
wall,"  she  finished  in  a  stubborn  effort  to  stick  to 
the  facts.  The  other  smiled  sympathetically 
and  raised  his  glass.  Agnes  imitated  him  and 
the  first  drink  in  the  big  city  was  disjjosed  of. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say  if  we  take  a  run  down 
to  the  Dearborn  club  after  we  finish  here?"  he 
asked  with  a  smile  that  puzzled  Aggie.  He  was 
expanding  in  the  role  of  Prince  Charming.  The 
atmosphere  of  romance  was  possessing  the  small 
shopgirl.  The  Dearborn  club  meant  nothing  tq 
her  outside  of  the  fact  that  she  knew  it  to  be  a 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  T5 

dance  hall  where  many  of  the  girls  from  the 
store  found  amusement  and  the  interminable 
list  of  "fellows"  whom  they  talked  eternally 
while  at  work. 

Now  Aggie,  herself,  was  possessed  of  a  "fel* 
low."  She  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  show  the  other 
girls  that  she  too,  was  capable  of  attracting  the 
opposite  sex. 

"I'd  like  to  go  there  for  awhile,"  she  replied, 
"a  good  many  of  my  friends  dance  there  on  Sat- 
urday nights  and  they  say  there's  quite  a  'live 
bunch'  there." 

The  slang  phrase  was  a  surprise  to  the  Man. 
He  raised  liis  eyebrows  inquiringly  and  stared 
at  the  end  of  his  cigaret.  Several  more  drinks 
were  disposed  of  and  when  they  rose  to  go  Ag- 
gie experienced  a  queer  sensation. 

There  was  a  touch  of  color  in  her  usually,  pale 
cheeks.  Her  eyes  burned  brighter  than  their 
placidity  had  known  before.  She  had  taken  sev- 
eral glasses  of  wine  and  a  cocktail.  She  expe- 
rienced a  buoyant  sensation  that  moved  her  to 
take  the  other's  hand  and  sing: 

"Oh,  gee,  be  sweet  to  me  kid,  I'm  awfully 
fond  of  you."  And  the  Man  smiled  with  the 
wearied  cynicism  that  showed  his  indulgence 
even  if  the  song  was  "flat." 

A  short  ride  on  the  street  cars  and  the  Dear- 
born club  at  443  North  Clark  street  was  reached. 


76  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Music  and  laughter  flowed  through  the  Dear- 
born club  at  all  hours  of  the  night  and  the  early- 
morning.  Dances  held  forth  there  every  night 
of  the  week  and  the  bar  prospered.  They  en- 
tered. With  an  air  of  familiarity,  the  Man  led 
the  way  to  the  third  floor  where  the  dance  hall 
is  situated. 

A  large  crowd  thronged  the  ball.  Aggie  rec- 
ognized many  of  the  girls  she  worked  with.  They 
had  told  her  that  the  Dearborn  club  was  a  "good 
place  to  earn  a  little  money  on  the  side"  but  she 
had  not  questioned  them  closely  as  to  the  man- 
ner of  doing  so.  Probably  two  hundred  girls 
were  present  at  the  dance  which  was  conducted 
by  the  management  and  the  proprietor  of  the 
saloon  in  the  building.  Very  few  of  the  girls 
seemed  to  be  escorted  but  to  Aggie  this  fact  had 
no  significance.  She  herself  had  just  escaped 
the  ignominy  of  the  wall-flower.  Many  of  her 
acquaintances  and  fellow  workers  in  the  store 
glanced  curiously  at  her  as  she  entered  with  her 
quiet  companion. 

Aggie  was  surprised  at  the  number  of  girls 
and  men  who  recognized  him,  particularly  the 
girls.  It  was  after  12  o'clock  and  the  dance  was 
in  full  swing.  A  general  spirit  of  carelessness 
permeated  the  unhealthy  atmosphere  of  the  hall. 
The  dances  in  progress  lasted  only  four  or  five 
minutes — at  Columbia  Hall  the  dances  had  been 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  77 

from  ten  to  even  fifteen  minutes — and  Agnes 
was  puzzled  to  account  for  the  difference.  She 
mentioned  the  circumstance  to  her  companion 
and  he  smiled  again. 

"Come  with  me  and  I'll  show  you  why  it  is,'* 
he  said.  A  fight  had  started  over  in  one  corner 
of  the  hall  and  several  "bouncers"  rushed  over 
to  separate  or  eject  the  combatants.  Fights  in- 
terfere with  business  and  the  Dearborn  club  is  a 
business  proposition  even  to  the  girls  who  dance 
there  every  night.  The  brawl  seemed  to  have 
the  psychological  effect  of  letting  down  the  bar- 
riers, for  Aggie  was  surprised  at  the  scenes  that 
followed. 

A  number  of  the  men  took  their  girls  on  their 
knees.  At  one  end  of  the  hall  a  man  was  chok- 
ing the  girl  he  was  with — she  screamed.  The 
others  laughed,  even  Aggie's  "fellow." 

The  couple  settled  their  grievance  and  Agnes 
saw  them  later  drinking  together  in  the  room 
downstairs.  Near  the  doorway  one  girl  was 
drinking  out  of  a  flask  which  her  male  compan- 
ion held.  Everywhere  was  familiarity,  indecency 
and  open  vice,  but  Aggie  saw  it  only  through 
the  eyes  of  her  companion,  "a  little  rough  stuff, 
but  nothing  serious." 

They  passed  downstairs  and  to  a  table  where 
the  scenes  were  a  httle  "rougher"  if  not  more 
"serious."    One,  two  drinks  Agnes  had  with  her 


78  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

companion  and  they  returned  to  the  hall.  Her 
head  was  in  a  whirl,  but  she  was  eager  for  fur- 
ther evidence  of  her  triumph  and  three  numbers 
followed  when  the  air  in  the  hall  became  unbear- 
able. Aggie  saw  two  men  force  a  drink  of 
whisky  down  a  young  girl's  throat  and  laughed 
with  the  crowd  as  they  lifted  her  clothing  to  an 
improper  height.  Girls  stopped  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor  and  extracted  their  powder  puffs 
from  the  tops  of  their  stockings.  The  act  went 
unnoticed  save  by  some  red-faced  young  man 
who  might  be  seen  leaving  the  hall  with  the  same 
girl  within  a  half  hour. 

The  crowd  was  thinning  out  for  it  was  after 
1  a.  m.  and  the  "dates"  had  in  a  majority  of 
cases  "matured."  Aggie's  partner  proposed 
"something  cool"  and  she  laughed  giddily  and 
assented.  A  few  of  the  remaining  girls  from 
the  store  had  commented  on  Agnes'  presence. 
But  of  that  Agnes  cared  little.  She  was  "show- 
ing them."     She  had  found  herself. 

Down  in  the  "wineroom"  they  sat  and  those 
around  and  about  them  smiled  as  Aggie  called 
for  "something  that  bubbles."  The  Man  smiled, 
too.  But  now  his  smile  was  not  cynical.  The 
Man  produced  a  large  bill  and  placed  it  on  the 
table. 

"Do  you  want  that,  kiddo?"  he  asked  in  a  low 
tone.    Aggie  reached  for  it. 


'I 


-^e_ 


r^' 


^'-iiP^S^P^ 


|fF;' 


"She  was  lonesome  and  saw  only  Innocent  pleasure  in  the  public 

dance,  and  had  no  one  to  keep  her  from  the  snares. ' ' 

(Chapter  III,  The  Tragedy  of  The  Wallflower.) 


What  mother  would  fail  in  wise  counsel  to  preserve  such  purity 
from  the  wiles  of  the  wicked? 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  79 

"Surest  thing  you  know,  Charley,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"Then  take  it,"  he  said,  placing  it  in  her  hand. 
It  was  a  ten-dollar  note. 

One,  two,  three  more  drinks  they  had  and  the 
music  stopped  upstairs.  Aggie's  head  dropped 
drowsily  and  the  chestnut  brown  hair  nodded 
over  the  drink. 

"Tomorrow's  Sunday — no  work,"  she  mur- 
mured. The  Man  looked  up.  His  bored  expres- 
sion was  gone;  his  face  as  alert  as  a  weazel's. 
Carefully  he  fingered  his  stickpin,  then  glanced 
rapidly  through  a  small  red  notebook.  He  put 
away  the  book  and  waited. 

The  other  couples  adjusted  their  plans  and 
left,  but  still  the  Man  waited  with  his  eyes  on 
the  chestnut  brown  head,  bowed  over  the  drink. 

A  waiter  returned  for  the  glasses  and  Aggie 
roused  herself  and  finished  the  mixture  before 
her.    The  music  started  again  and  she  said: 

"Let's  dance  some  more."  The  Man  nodded 
and  they  returned  to  the  hall. 

The  crowd  had  dwindled  appreciably,  but 
Agnes  seemed  possessed  of  a  feverish  desire  to 
dance.  The  bar  had  closed  and  all  were  pre- 
paring to  leave.  A  few  boisterous  spirits  took 
possession  of  the  dance  and  a  mixture  of  the 
"bearcat,"  "dip,"  "walk"  and  "plain  round" 
followed. 


80  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Agnes'  partner  elected  to  dance  a  style  that 
was  new  to  the  girl.  Gathering  her  close  to  him, 
he  swayed  her  backforward  with  an  "up-and- 
down"  motion,  alternately  bending  her  to  either 
side  in  the  "grizzly"  hug.  The  dance  demanded 
the  closest  proximity  and  the  result  would  not 
have  been  allowed  in  Columbia  hall.  But  Aggie's 
thoughts  were  far  from  Columbia  hall,  where 
she  held  place  only  as  a  "wallflower";  where  she 
danced  occasionally  through  the  good  offices  of 
the  floor  manager  or  the  introducers. 

"I've  got  the  finest  man;  I've  got  the  grand- 
est man  what's  in  the  land,"  she  sang  joyously 
as  they  swung  around  the  hall  to  the  "bear  tune.'* 

"Why  do  you  smile  so?"  she  asked  once,  petu- 
lantly and  a  trifle  thickly. 

"Because  I've  'picked  up'  such  a  dandy  little 
kid  at  that  Sunday  school  dance  tonight,"  he 
answered  soothingly.  The  dance  ended.  As 
they  left  the  floor  she  turned  to  her  companion 
with  a  rather  worried  look. 

"My  head  feels  awful  queer.  Let's  sit  down 
and  rest  awhile.  Then  we'll  go  home,"  she  fin- 
ished. The  Man  laughed  aloud,  and  the  sharp, 
bitter  sound  roused  the  girl. 

"What  are  you  laughing  about?"  she  asked 
slowly.  The  Man  leaned  close  as  they  passed 
out  into  the  hall.  He  caught  her  in  a  close  em- 
brace and  whispered  rapidly  in  her  ear.    A  look 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  31 

of  wonder  passed  over  the  shopgirl's  counte- 
nance. For  a  full  minute  they  stood  in  the  hall- 
way, the  girl  against  the  wall,  the  Man  holding 
her  tight  and  with  his  face  pressed  close  to  hers. 

She  struggled  a  moment,  then  yielded  to  his 
embrace  and  the  hallway  echoed  to  his  laugh, 
sharp,  hard  and  satirical. 

"You  wouldn't  leave  me  now,  little  kiddo, 
would  you?"  he  said  again. 

"No,  my  honey  man,"  said  Aggie,  and  their 
lips  met. 

"Where  do  ycu  live?"  he  asked  brusquely. 

"Up  near  the  park  on  La  Salle  avenue,  but  I 
live  in  a  boarding  house." 

"Well,  I  live  at  Twenty-first  and  Indiana  ave- 
nue," was  the  answer.  "You're  coming  with  me. 
Come  on,  let's  get  out  of  here.  Don't  be  a  wall- 
flower all  your  life,  kiddo." 

"Well,  I  like  that,"  said  Aggie,  as  they  passed 
out  into  the  street.  "I'm  not  a  'wallflower'  any 
more." 

"No,"  agreed  the  Man,  as  he  signaled  a  south- 
bound car,  "you're  not  any  more." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Tragedy  of  Valeska  or  Poland. 

TO  LOOK  at  Valeska  Latorski's  smiling 
countenance  one  would  have  been  remind- 
ed of  nothing  but  seraphic  innocence  of  a  pure 
Polish  type. 

Valeska  had  not  been  in  big  Chicago  long 
enough  to  lose  the  blooming  rose  color,  the  spar- 
khng  brown  eyes  her  seventeen  years  of  life  in 
the  grain  fields  of  the  Vistula  vi^Uey  had  known. 
For  nearly  three  months  she  had  lived  an  en- 
chanted life  in  the  great,  wide  world  outside  the 
flats  of  Cracow,  and  the  homesick  memory  of 
"unhappy  Poland"  was  rapidly  giving  place  to 
a  new  spirit  of  "steady  go  ahead"  in  this  western 
land  of  promise. 

For,  had  not  Valeska's  brother — that  wonder- 
ful big  brother  Stanislaus — earned  enough  in  his 
single  year  of  life  in  the  "Big  Chicago"  to  en- 
able him  to  send  for  the  little  orphaned  sister; 
to  bring  her  across  the  ocean  to  their  new  home 
where  a  fine  job  in  the  box  factory  awaited? 

Stanislaus  was  now  Stanley  in  recognition  of 
the  twelvemonth  he  had  spent  in  the  cosmopoli- 
tan melting  pot,  worked  in  Packingtown.  Stan- 
ley  was   a   trucker   in   the   packing   room   and 

82 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  83 

earned  $2  per  day,  amply  sufficient  for  the  sim- 
ple needs  of  himself  and  his  sister.  From  the 
first,  he  had  stuck  to  his  resolution,  that  the 
weekly  wages  should  be  jealously  guarded  until 
Valeska  might  come  and  share  his  fortunes  in 
this  great  land  of  the  west. 

So  Stanley  had  saved  until  the  little  sister 
actually  came  to  live  with  him  in  the  rooms  on 
West  Twenty-second  street.  Stanley  was  tall, 
strong  and  serious,  with  a  resolute  face  that  ac- 
counted for  the  little  sister's  arrival  in  such  a 
short  time.  Stanley  was  no  ordinary  "hunkie." 
He  had  little  in  common  with  the  boys  who  spent 
their  weekly  earnings  in  the  poolrooms  or  sa- 
loons of  the  neighborhood.  Hard  months  of 
study  in  the  public  night  schools  had  brought 
him  an  intelhgent,  if  not  fluent,  command  of 
English.  Stanley  was  ambitious.  Some  day 
he  would  be  foreman  of  the  trucking  gang.  He 
aspired  even  to  "boss"  the  strippers  or  the 
packers. 

Valeska  was  neither  serious  nor  quiet  and  her 
laughing  face  held  little  thought  of  tomorrow. 
For  Valeska  life  was  today,  with  the  future  an 
indistinct  haze  that  might  well  take  care  of  itself. 
She  was  small,  bright  and  active  with  full,  rosy 
cheeks,  dark  brown  hair  and  eyes,  and  an  always 
smiling  mouth  that  curved  wliimsically  beneath 
a  small,  irregular  nose. 

The  half  dozen  years  spent  in  the  grain  fields 


84  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

on  the  banks  of  the  Vistula  had  lent  the  little 
Polish  girl  a  maturity  of  form  beyond  her  years. 

She  was  the  "little  Polska  lad-ee"  of  the  West 
Twenty-second  street  settlement  and,  among  the 
other  workers  in  the  Harrison  street  box  factory 
held  place  as  the  "hunkie  peach."  To  Valeska 
the  language  of  her  new  country  was  one  great 
puzzle.  The  harsh  consonants  and  sharp  mono- 
syllables were  poor  substitutes  for  the  smooth, 
purring  Slavic  intonations  and  the  rich  harmony 
of  the  Polish  tongue.  Though  the  language  con- 
tains many  "z's"  and  "k's,"  their  enunciation  is 
musical. 

From  Stanley  and  the  other  girls  with  whom 
she  worked  a  few  words  of  that  strange  "Ang- 
lish"  were  learned,  whereupon  Valeska  tossed 
her  head  laughingly  and  pursued  her  smiling 
course,  untroubled  by  thoughts  of  a  further  ne- 
cessity for  learning  the  new  "talk."  At  the  box 
factory  she  was  earning  $7  a  week  after  she  had 
been  there  nearly  a  month.  She  was  a  good 
worker  and  the  "straw  boss"  or  foreman  smiled 
approvingly  as  she  rushed  gaily  through  the 
day's  work  with  a  song  and  a  constant  smile. 

Valeska  was  never  sad  and  she  rarely  got  mad 
on  anyone.  Affairs  of  the  moment  never  trou- 
bled when  the  moment  had  passed  and  so  she 
talked,  laughed,  sang,  flirted,  worked  and  danced 
her  way  through  the  monotonous  round  of  daily 
Mfe.    She  was  a  born  coquette.    Many  were  the 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  85 

Polish  boys  who  came  awooing  earnestly  but 
vainly. 

Of  a  certainty  Valeska  learned  to  dance  the 
strange,  new  hopping  dances  of  this  strange, 
new  country. 

Stanley  liked  to  dance  at  times,  too.  It  was 
but  two  days  after  her  arrival  that  Valeska  came, 
saw  and  conquered  at  a  dance  m  Gavrilovicz  hall 
"by"  West  Twenty-second  place.  Valeska's 
smiling  face  and  laughing  brown  eyes  secured 
her  many  tutors  under  whose  instruction  the 
*Valitz"  and  "two-steps"  were  learned,  together 
with  the  strange,  new  "hoppers"  she  had  heard  of. 

It  was  only  natural  that  Valeska  should  give 
herself  up  to  the  lure  of  the  dance  whenever  pos- 
sible. Life  with  her  was  one  continual  dance. 
In  the  factory,  at  home  and  even  at  church  her 
thoughts  and  consequenth^  her  talk  were  of  the 
dance.  Valeska  had  her  "fellows"  and  she  num- 
bered them  almost  in  scores.  Over  the  "fellows" 
Stanley  exercised  a  quiet  right  of  censorship  and 
Father  Cszlowski,  of  the  little  Polish  church, 
ffrew  srrave  in  benediction  when  the  "little  lad-ee" 
knelt  in  the  church  at  praj^er,  for  Father  Cszlow- 
ski was  wise  in  the  ways  of  the  big  city. 

At  the  dances  Valeska  learned  much.  With 
her  "fellows"  she  drank  the  dark,  cool  Pohsh 
beer  and  laughed  delightedly  when  the  escort 
called  the  glasses  "schoo-oners."  Occasionally 
Stanley  would  drop  in  at  the  dances  in  Gaurilo- 


86  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

vicz  hall  and  then  would  the  little  sister  desert 
all  partners  or  "fellows"  to  dance  with  the  won- 
derful, big  brother.  Everybody  at  the  dance 
knew  everybody  else  and  the  formalities  received 
little  attention  among  the  aliens  of  the  American 
crucible.  The  bar  was  close  at  hand,  but  what 
of  that?  Boys  and  even  girls  drank  too  much 
and  "got  drunk,"  but  was  that  not  their  own 
fault  and  could  others  help  it  if  a  little  too  much 
beer  or  whisky  was  taken? 

Valeska  troubled  herself  little  with  questions 
of  the  sort,  although  at  first  many  things  shocked 
her  peasant  propriety.  If  her  partner  or  her 
"fellow"  got  drunk  at  the  dance,  another  soon 
appeared  to  take  his  place  and  Valeska  marked 
the  other  off  her  list  of  eligibles  for  future  dances. 
She  had  bought  some  of  the  finery  of  the  big 
city.  She  had  brought  many  laces  from  the  old 
country,  and  the  "fellows"  had  supplied  her  with 
beautiful  jewelry  of  startling  figures  and 
designs. 

Valeska  flirted,  danced,  laughed  and  chatted 
with  all,  but  Valeska  would  allow  few  of  the 
familiarities  common  among  some  other  girls  of 
Gavrilovicz. 

She  might  cuddle  close  to  her  partner  in  danc- 
ing, but  she  would  not  sit  on  his  knee  during 
the  intermissions  or  allow  him  to  embrace  her 
openty  or  otherwise.  Valeska  kissed  none  but 
the  wonderful  brother,  Stanley,  although  with 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  87 

natural  affection  she  might  and  often  did  put 
her  arm  about  one  of  the  nicest  of  the  boys  and 
naively  invite  him  to  escort  her  to  other  dances. 

With  Frank  Dimitrivich  the  little  immigrant 
girl  attended  most  of  the  dances  in  Gavrilovicz 
hall.  Frank  became  known  in  the  society  of 
West  Twenty-second  street  as  "Valeska's 
steady."  Often  she  would  go  farther  afield  to 
other  halls  where  dances  were  given,  but  rarely 
the  week  passed  that  Frank  did  not  escort 
Valeska  to  the  neighborhood  dance. 

Frank  was  a  trucker  in  the  gang  that  Stanley 
worked  in.  The  two  Polish  boys  were  fast 
friends. 

"Stanley,"  said  Frank  one  day  in  the  packing 
room,  "would  you  hke  to  see  me  marry  Valeska 
when  I  get  the  job  in  the  cooling  room?" 

"More  than  all  others,  my  friend,"  said  Stan- 
ley in  Polish.  Stanley  went  home  with  a  light 
heart  that  night.  To  Father  Cszlowski  he  con- 
fided his  hopes.  Both  rejoiced,  for  many  had 
been  the  counsels  delivered  to  Stanley  for  the 
care  and  protection  of  his  sister. 

The  next  Saturday  night  Frank  spoke  of  his 
desire  to  Valeska  and  the  fulfillment  that  should 
come  when  the  "job"  in  the  cooling  room  at  $16 
per  week  had  been  secured.  Valeska  withheld 
her  answer  until  the  counsel  of  the  wonderful 
brother  had  been  sought,  but  Frank  went  away 
with  her  first  kiss  on  his  lips  and  a  joyful  song 


88  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

in  his  heart.  Father  Cszlowski  fairly  beamed 
when  the  httle  immigrant  girl  came,  after  the 
Polish  custom,  for  the  blessing  of  the  church 
upon  her  romance  and  the  marriage  that  should 
follow.  Stanley  only  smiled  his  slow,  serious 
smile,  but  in  church  he  prayed  long  and  earnestly 
before  the  statue  of  the  Virgin  that  the  life  of 
his  little  sister  should  be  kept  free  from  the  sin 
and  sorrow  of  the  "Big  Chicago."  And  the 
Lady  of  Good  Counsel  looked  down  maternally. 

Frank,  too,  sought  out  the  good  Father 
Cszlowski  with  "the  higher  light"  in  his  stolid 
face.  Among  the  boys  and  younger  men  of  the 
good  father's  flock  were  few  such  as  Stanley 
Latorski  and  Frank  Dimitrivich,  nor  was  the 
still  unsullied  virtue  of  Valeska  a  matter  of  com- 
mon occurrence.  The  streets,  the  poolroom  and 
the  saloon  are  relentless  foes  for  such  as  Father 
Cszlowski,  and  the  struggle  becomes  almost 
hopeless  at  times  when  the  attack  of  the  powers 
of  darkness  becomes  too  strong. 

On  the  dance  halls  and  the  inevitable  saloon 
Father  Cszlowski  kept  an  anxious  eye.  The 
safety  of  the  girls  was  his  main  concern  and  it 
was  for  such  as  Valeska  Latorski  that  he  felt 
the  greatest  anxiety.  Of  his  fears  he  had  spoken 
to  Stanley  and  the  latter  had  warned  the  little 
sister  in  turn,  that  nothing  but  evil  could  come 
of  drinking  with  all  the  "fellows"  of  her  ac- 
quaintance, of  dancing  the  "grizzly"  or  the  "dip" 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  89 

or  of  allowing  the  fellows  to  "monkey  around 
you."  For  once  Valeska  listened  seriously  and 
quietly  obeyed  the  instructions  of  her  brother  to 
the  letter. 

When  Valeska  had  tasted  the  joys  and  the 
few  sorrows  of  her  first  three  months  of  metro- 
politan experience  it  happened  that  the  Star 
Athletic  Club  announced  a  dance  to  be  held  at 
Vavrilovicz  hall.  The  Star  Athletic  Club  had 
its  habitat  in  a  store  next  to  "Jake's"  poolroom 
on  West  Twenty-second  street  and  both  Frank 
and  Stanley  were  members  of  the  organization,- 
Frank  because  a  majority  of  the  members  were 
fellow  workers  and  Stanley  by  reason  of  his 
athletic  prowess. 

Frank  was  vice-president  of  the  club  and  by 
vote  was  selected  to  lead  "the  gi'and  march"  at 
the  "First  Annual  Reception  and  Ball."  Where- 
fore, a  still  greater  triumph  w^as  in  store  for 
Valeska,  for  of  necessity  she  should  bloom  above 
all  the  other  flowers  of  "Little  Poland"  at  the 
side  of  her  Frank. 

Although  the  immigrant  girl  had  given  her 
"promise"  to  the  stolid  Frank,  upon  the  advice 
of  Father  Cszlowski,  the  betrothal  was  to  be  kept 
secret  until  the  job  in  the  cooling  room  mate- 
rialized. 

Stanley  decided  that  none  should  eclipse 
Valeska  on  that  night  of  all  nights  and  the  little 
sister  listened  entranced  as  he  outlined  the  dress 


90  FROM  DANCE  HALLr 

she  must  be  provided  with  before  the  night  of 
the  dance,  three  weeks  distant. 

A  trip  to  the  Httle  bank  on  Halsted  street 
where  their  small  earnings  were  kept  and  the 
two  started  on  a  delightful  round  of  the  depart- 
ment store  of  the  great  west  side.  The  result 
was  a  pink  dress  of  a  degree  of  loveliness  that 
even  Annie  Pietrowski,  whose  father  owned  the 
saloon  on  the  corner,  had  never  attained.  Pink 
slippers,  a  string  of  coral  beads  and  a  small 
breast  pin  with  a  pink  turban  hat  completed  the 
outfit.  No  bride  could  have  been  more  over- 
joyed with  her  trousseau  than  Valeska. 

The  dance  was  advertised  extensively  in  regu- 
lation style  and  several  thousand  red,  yellow  and 
green  "plugger"  cards  bearing  popular  songs  on 
the  reverse  side  were  distributed  within  a  radius 
of  several  miles.  Everywhere  talk  was  of  the 
"Star  Dance,"  speculation  as  to  the  size  of  the 
crowd,  and  predictions  as  to  the  nature  and  char- 
acter of  the  affair. 

Officers  and  members  of  the  club  backed 
Frank  Dimitrivich  in  his  announcement  as  chair- 
man of  arrangements,  that  there  should  be  no 
"roughhouse"  and  the  management  of  the  hall 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  applauded  the  move. 
There  had  been  occasions  when  Gavrilovicz  hall 
was  the  scene  of  disorder,  drunken  brawls,  riots 
and  even  worse,  but  all  this  was  to  be  changed 
at  the  Star  Athletic  Club  dance.     Some  smiled 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  91 

when  they  heard  this  and  others,  among  them 
the  proprietors  of  the  neighboring  saloons, 
looked  a  trifle  worried. 

A  "roughhouse"  dance,  while  a  thing  to  be 
deplored  from  a  moral  standpoint,  is  an  element 
conducive  to  the  sale  of  much  liquor.  In  addi- 
tion, a  dance  without  the  "hve"  features  of  a 
dubious  nature,  is  in  some  quarters  a  veritable 
"Hamlet"  without  Hamlet.  This  was  to  be  the 
first  of  a  series  of  dances  by  the  Star  Athletic 
Club  and  the  members  proposed  that  it  should 
be  an  affair  of  "class."  Wherefore,  the  ban  on 
all  "roughhouse." 

Into  the  social  life  of  West  Twenty-second 
street  a  new  personage  had  entered  about  the 
time  Valeska  arrived  in  Chicago.  "Tony"  Ver- 
cek,  a  singer  in  the  cheaper  vaudeville  theaters 
of  the  west  side,  arrived  from  somewhere — no- 
body knew  just  where — with  an  apparently  un- 
limited supply  of  clothes  of  extremely  "noisy" 
patterns  and  colors  and  with  a  degree  of  sophis- 
tication that  invariably  impressed. 

"Tony's"  main  occupation  in  life  seemed  to 
cover  playing  "Kelly  pool"  incessantly  in 
"Jake's,"  yet  he  always  seemed  well  supplied 
with  money.  He  was  a  short,  stockily  built 
young  man  of  twenty-three  or  twenty-four  years 
of  age,  of  certain  habits  that  might  have  classed 
him  as  "rather  fast"  elsewhere  than  in  "Little  Po- 
land."   There  he  was  merelv  "a  rounder"  and  a 


92  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"live  guy.'*  "Tony"  invariably  attended  the 
dances  in  the  neighborhood  halls  and  was  popu- 
lar among  the  girls  by  reason  of  his  willingness 
to  buy  unlimited  quantities  of  beer  or  other 
drinks.  Oddly  enough,  he  seemed  to  enjoy  pur- 
chasing a  large  amount  of  liquor  when  any  girl 
manifested  a  desire  to  consume  it. 

Father  Cszlowski  sensed  a  nevv^  enemy  in  the 
presence  of  Vercek  and  his  eyes  darkened  per- 
ceptibly when  the  latter's  name  was  mentioned 
by  any  of  the  girls  of  the  neighborhood.  Since 
his  advent  the  name  of  the  newcomer  had  been 
brought  up  in  connection  with  the  disappearance 
of  a  3'oung  orphan  girl  who  lived  with  her  aunt 
in  the  neighborhood. 

The  girl  had  vanished  mysteriously  after  a 
dance  at  which  she  had  been  seen  drinking  with 
Vercek.  A  letter  was  received  from  her  later, 
stating  that  she  had  gone  to  St.  Louis,  but  it 
contained  no  explanation  of  her  disappearance. 

Vercek  joined  the  Star  Athletic  Club  and  en- 
tered heartily  into  the  plans  for  the  forthcoming 
dance.  Certain  restrictions  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  the  dances  should  be  conducted,  advocated 
by  Frank  Dimitrivich,  were  ridiculed  by  the  new- 
comer as  properly  belonging  to  a  "Sunday 
school." 

"Let  'em  'round,'  let  'em  do  the  'bear'  and  let 
'em  skate  if  they  want  to,  but  don't  pull  that 
Salvation  army  stuff,"  said  "Tony,"  sneeringly. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  93 

"What  do  we  care,  what  they  do  so  long  as  they 
kick  in  with  the  dough  for  their  tickets  and  don't 
bust  each  other's  nuts  with  beer  bottles?  Hire 
a  cop  and  let  him  keep  order,  but  don't  try  to 
put  a  gang  of  'rounders'  on  their  good  behavior." 

"But  there's  likely  to  be  some  there  who  aren't 
rounders,"  said  Frank.  "Tony"  laughed  insult- 
ingly. 

"Oh,  can  that  stuff;  it's  musty.  What're  yuh 
trying  to  slip  me?  I  know  this  gang.  We're 
all  'rounders'  and  some  girls  are  no  better.  Wliy 
that  httle  doll  of  yours  dips  like  a  gasoline 
launch  every  time  she  dances,  Dimitrivich.  Mean 
to  tell  me  that's  accident?  Why,  I  can  take  her 
or  any  other  skirt  around  these  corners,  out  any 
night  and  do  what  I  please  with  'em  when  I  get 
'em  drinking.    They're  all  out  after  the " 

Dimitrivich  cut  him  off  with  a  right  hand  jolt 
that  sent  him  to  the  floor  with  blood  streaming 
from  his  mouth.  Vercek  was  up  like  a  cat  and 
at  the  other,  but  a  right  hook  stopped  him.  The 
club  members  interfered  and  "Tony"  was  led 
away  cursing  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and  swear- 
ing to  "get  that  guy  if  I  swing  for  it."  A  sus- 
picious bulge  in  his  right  hip  pocket  made  his 
words  seem  sinister,  but  Dimitrivich,  struggling 
with  the  peacemakers,  neither  cared  nor  heeded. 

The  following  Saturday  night  the  dance  was 
to  be  held  and  an  armistice  was  arranged  between 
both  parties.    Sentiment  in  the  club  was  divided. 


94  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

All  agreed,  however,  that  the  latter  should  not 
have  attacked  Vercek  on  such  apparently  small 
provocation,  for  it  was  an  admitted  fact  among 
the  members  that  the  newcomer  had  spoken  the 
truth  as  regarded  the  general  run  of  girls  who 
attended  the  dances  in  Gavrilovicz  hall.  Stanley 
Latorski  was  not  present  at  the  meeting  when 
the  trouble  occurred  and  Frank  said  nothing  of 
the  affair  to  either  Valeska  or  her  brother. 

On  the  night  of  the  dance  Frank  appeared  at 
the  door  of  Valeska's  tenement  home,  magnifi- 
cent in  a  new  suit  that  could  not  have  come  from 
any  place  but  State  street.  It  was  a  rather  quiet 
gray  and  fitted  in  perfectly  with  Valeska's  radi- 
ant pink.  But  Frank  had  another  surprise. 
When  he  produced  a  small  opal  ring  the  little 
immigrant  girl's  small  stock  of  English  failed 
to  cover  the  necessity  that  had  arisen  for  a  fit- 
ting expression.  In  rich,  deeply  intoned  Polish 
words  that  fairly  tumbled  over  each  other  in 
their  haste  to  escape,  she  voiced  her  apprecia- 
tion, ending  by  throwing  herself  into  the  Polish 
boy's  arms  with  impulsive  affection. 

On  their  way  out  they  found  a  note  from  the 
big  brother  explaining  that  he  would  not  arrive 
at  the  dance  until  later  in  the  evening.  A  visit 
to  a  sick  friend  was  given  as  the  reason  for  his 
non-appearance  and  Frank  remembered  that 
"Shorty"  Johnson,  who  worked  in  the  trucking 


i^Mui^ 


The  easy  stages  by  which  the  beautiful  telephone  girl  was  led 
to  her  downfall.     (Chapter  VIII.) 


Eegrets  will  not  wipe  out  the  past  nor  restore  the  confidence 
and  love  of  friends. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  95 

gang,  had  been  injured  in  a  street  car  accident 
the  day  previous. 

On  the  dance  floor  they  were  met  first  by 
*'Tony"  Vercek.  Frank  stiffened  sHghtly,  but 
the  newcomer  nodded  pleasantly  and  greeted 
Valeska  effusively.  With  engaging  impudence 
he  demanded  three  dances  and  Dimitrivich 
scowled  as  Valeska  assented.  But  he  made  no 
protest.  "Maybe,"  he  thought  "Tony  wants  to 
make  up  and  this  is  his  way  of  apology." 

In  the  grand  march  Valeska  appeared  little 
short  of  beautiful.  The  crowd  was  a  mixed  one. 
A  strange  element  was  noticeable,  but  the  size 
of  the  gathering  established  the  first  dance  of 
the  Star  Athletic  Club  a  success.  There  were 
over  a  hundred  couples  in  the  "Grand  March." 
Tony  Vercek  was  not  among  them.  In  the  rear 
room  of  the  saloon,  which  connected  with  the 
dance  hall,  he  might  have  been  found  in  close 
conversation  with  a  flashily  dressed  woman  who 
puffed  slowly  on  a  cigarette  and  watched  her 
companion  with  wearily,  amused  eyes. 

An  excess  of  paint  and  powder  and  a  certain 
indefinable  air  stamped  her  for  what  she  was,  a 
"regular  from  the  district."  Vercek,  resplen- 
dent in  a  light  j^ellow  suit  of  many  scallops  and 
buttons,  leaned  forward  tensely  and  spoke  in  a 
hurried  undertone.  At  the  conclusion  the  blase 
woman  opposite  finished  the  highball  before  her. 


96  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

snapped  the  cigarette  stub  into  a  corner  and 
winked  evilly  at  her  companion. 

"What's  the  game,  Tony,  old  kid?  Why  are 
you  so  strong  with  this  kid?" 

"Oh,  fell  with  her,"  said  the  man  in  yellow. 
"I'm  not  after  her  so  much,  but  I'm  after  the 
guy  she  trails  with.  She  can  hardly  talk  United 
States,  but  she's  a  good  looker.  Now  all  you've 
got  to  do  is  to  get  her  drunk  or  fix  her  so's  she'll 
forget  home  and  mother.  Then  get  her  out  of 
the  hall  and  I'll  meet  you." 

"How  about  the  hunkie  she's  here  with?"  que- 
ried the  "regular." 

"Never  mind  him.  I'll  fix  his  clock  right. 
Now  are  you  on  to  the  game  and  will  you  go 
to  it?" 

"Sure,  Tony;  you  know  me,"  answered  the 
woman  slowty.    "I  can  use  her  fine;  I  get  her?" 

"She's  yours  as  far  as  I'm  concerned.  Now 
you've  had  a  good  look  at  her ;  do  you  think  she'll 
fall?" 

The  woman  across  the  table  paused  in  the  act 
of  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette. 

"Will  she  fall?  You  ask  that  question  and 
you've  seen  'em  come  and  go  on  the  'line'  for 
quite  a  while.  Say,  wake  up.  What  chance  has 
that  little  Polack  kid  got?  Will  she  fall?  Ask 
me!  Did  I  fall?  Did  all  the  others  fall?"  The 
cigarette  was  lighted  and  the  woman  turned 
again  to  the  man. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  97 

*'Tony,"  she  continued,  "they  got  me  at  a 
dance  right  here  in  this  hall,  only  I  fell  easier 
than  you  seem  to  think  she  will.  You  can't  beat 
a  system  and  you  know  the  system.  Let's  have 
another  drink." 

The  dance  had  begun  as  Vercek  entered  the 
hall.  In  the  midst  of  the  dancers  he  picked  out 
Valeska  and  her  partner.  The  little  immigrant 
girl  was  flushed  with  the  triumph  of  the  grand 
march  and  the  huge  bunch  of  red  and  white  roses 
she  carried.  She  smiled  up  into  Frank's  face 
and  held  the  small  opal  ring  up  to  the  light. 
"Tony"  saw  and  understood  and  his  smile 
widened. 

Two  succeeding  dances  with  Valeska  were 
danced  and  Frank  left  her  after  noting  that  the 
following  dance  had  been  given  to  Vercek.  Dim- 
itrivich  did  not  dance  the  number  but,  instead, 
took  up  a  position  at  the  side  of  the  hall  and 
watched  the  couple  carefully,  throughout  the 
dance,  his  eyes  always  on  Vercek's  face.  At  the 
conclusion  "Tony"  led  the  way  to  a  table  and 
Frank  started  to  follow,  but  changed  his  mind 
and  returned  to  the  hall. 

The  following  dance  also  was  given  over  to 
"Tony,"  who  seemed  to  have  made  a  distinct  im- 
pression on  Valeska.  During  the  dance  Frank 
noticed  that  the  man  seemed  to  be  instructing 
the  girl  in  a  figure  that  bore  strong  resemblance 
to-  the  "grizzly"  of  doubtful  fame.     As  they 


98  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

passed,  Dimitrivich  shook  his  head  at  Valeska, 
but  she  laughed  back  at  him  teasingly.  Tony- 
bowed  in  great  good  nature. 

During  the  intermission — long  enough  to  al- 
low many  drinks  at  the  bar  and  the  pavilion 
tables — Valeska  again  accepted  "refreshment" 
at  the  instance  of  her  partner.  Frank  followed 
and  satisfied  himself  that  the  little  inmiigrant 
girl  was  drinking  nothing  but  the  dark  beer  she 
was  accustomed  to. 

Valeska  returned  to  the  hall  within  a  few 
moments  and  went  directly  to  the  ladies'  dress- 
ing room.  She  did  not  appear  as  the  music  for 
the  next  dance  began  and  Frank  danced  the 
number  with  another  partner.  He  noticed  also 
that  Vercek  was  dancing  with  a  different  girl. 
As  Dimitrivich  was  rounding  a  corner  at  the  far 
end  of  the  hall  the  little  Polish  girl  emerged 
from  the  dressing  room  in  company  with  an 
older  woman.  The  woman's  face  carried  an  ex- 
cess of  rouge.  She  did  not  look  about  the  hall 
as  she  led  the  way  to  the  rear  room  of  the  ad- 
joining saloon. 

The  dance  ended  and  Frank  looked  about  for 
Valeska,  but  she  was  nowhere  in  sight.  Slightly 
jealous,  he  looked  for  the  yellow  clad  Vercek. 
He  seemed  to  be  engrossed  in  conversation  with 
a  boy  and  girl. 

Thus  far  there  had  been  little  disorder.  Gav- 
rilovicz  hall  was  operated  as  an  important  ad- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  99 

junct  of  the  saloon  in  connection,  and  a  dance 
there  without  a  few  necessary  evils,  such  as 
drunken  girls  and  boys,  was  not  uncommon. 
Drinking  was  liberal  tonight  and  the  floor  com- 
mittee was  having  some  trouble  keeping  order 
on  the  dance  floor.  The  "rounders"  had  ap- 
peared in  full  force  as  "Tony"  had  predicted 
and  they  could  not  be  handled  with  gloves. 

In  the  rear  room  of  the  saloon  Valeska  was 
seated  at  a  table  opposite  the  flashily  dressed 
woman.  The  httle  immigrant  girl  was  absorb- 
ing the  words  of  wisdom  that  fell  from  the  other's 
sophisticated  lips. 

"Take  it  from  me,  my  dear,"  the  woman  was 
saying,  "and  don't  let  that  fellow  of  yours  own 
you.  It  don't  pay.  Keep  stringing  him  along 
and  make  him  come  across  every  once  in  a  while. 
With  your  looks  and  your  build  you  could  earn 
lots  of  money  if  you  wanted  to?" 

"How?"  asked  Valeska,  intently.  She  under- 
stood only  part  of  the  slangy  jargon  the  woman 
opposite  her  was  using,  but  it  was  evident  to 
her  that  her  new  found  friend  was  able  to  help 
her  to  get  rich. 

"How  much  do  you  earn  now?"  asked  the 
"regular." 

"Five,  six,  seven  dollars  by  the  box  factory," 
said  Valeska.  The  other  woman  looked  her  over 
carefully,  noting  the  mature  cuin^es.  Then  she 
resumed  the  conversation. 


100  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"I'll  fix  you  up  so  you  can  drag  down  twenty, 
thirty  dollars  a  week,"  she  continued,  repeating 
the  amounts  over  and  over  in  a  low,  hard  voice 
that  forced  its  way  through  the  haze  of  Valeska's 
uncertain  English. 

The  Polish  girl's  eyes  grew  wide.  She  re- 
peated over  and  over:  "Twenty,  thirty  dollars 
a  week,"  then  again,  eagerly,  "How?"  The  older 
woman  smiled  and  ordered  two  highballs.  The 
waiter  winked  at  the  indiscretion  of  allowing  two 
unescorted  women  to  drink  in  the  rear  room  and 
brought  the  drinks. 

Valeska  gazed  into  hers  without  suspicion  and 
in  imitation  of  her  companion,  swallowed  half 
the  dark  liquid  before  she  brought  the  glass 
down  with  a  choking  gasp.  The  "regular" 
leaned  across  the  table  and  took  the  younger 
girl's  hand. 

"Valeska,  if  you  come  up  to  my  room  for  an 
hour  you  can  earn  $10  this  evening.  Just  think 
— ten  dollars,  more  than  you  can  earn  all  week 
by  the  box  factory.     Will  you  come?" 

"But  Frank,  he  wait  for  me  out  there,"  de- 
murred the  young  immigrant,  pointing  to  the 
hall.    The  woman  shook  a  finger. 

"You  can  go  out  with  Frank  and  dance  and 
then  we'll  go  and  come  back  in  an  hour.  We'll 
go  and  earn  that  money — ten  dollars,  Valeska, 
a  new  dress  maybe.  Frank  won't  know  about  it, 
and  you  won't  tell  him.    It'll  be  a  surprise.    Fin- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  101 

ish  your  drink  and  we'll  go  earn  the  ten  dollars." 
Valeska  looked  up  with  a  puzzled  air. 

"Plow?"  she  repeated  guilelessly  but  with  cau- 
tion. The  "regular"  frowned  wearily,  then  went 
at  it  patiently  again. 

"Ten  dollars — one,  two,  five,  ten — we'll  make 
it  cleaning  fish,  my  dear.  Did  you  ever  clean 
fish?  It's  a  hard  job  sometimes  but  not  tonight 
for  the  fish  are  suckers." 

The  Polish  girl  tried  to  look  as  if  she  under- 
stood. The  "regular"  looked  her  hopelessly  in 
the  eye. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Valeska,  and  the  bargain  was 
closed  as  she  finished  the  drink  under  the  watch- 
ful eye  of  the  other  woman. 

"Now,  don't  tell  Frank,"  said  the  woman  as 
they  entered  the  hall.  The  caution  was  unneces- 
sar)^  for  Frank  was  nowhere  in  the  hall.  He  had 
been  told  that  "Tony"  Vercek  was  talking  about 
Valeska,  in  a  saloon  across  the  way.  Thither, 
went  Dimitrivich  with  an  ulgy  look  on  his  stolid, 
Polish  face.  Vercek  was  found  in  a  rear  room 
but  a  policeman  was  present  and  Frank  waited.. 
his  anger  swelling  and  smoldering  under  the 
influence  of  jealousy  complicated  by  numerous 
drinks. 

Back  in  Gavrilovicz  hall,  several  club  members 
noted  that  Valeska  was  leaving  the  hall  dressed 
for  the  street  with  no  apparent  ascort.  She 
made  no  explanation  and  was  joined  on  the  side- 


102  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

walk  below  by  the  older  woman  who  glanced 
curiously  at  a  small,  opal  ring  on  the  Polish 
girl's  finger. 

"What's  that,  Kid?"  she  inquired,  not  un- 
kindly. The  girl's  face  glowed  with  pride  and 
she  answered  in  an  enthusiastic  flow  of  mingled 
Polish  and  English. 

"Frank,  he  give  him  to  me;  we  get  married 
pretty  quick" — she  stopped,  for  had  not  Father 
Cszlowski  told  her  to  keep  the  joyful  fact  a 
secret  yet?  Her  fresh,  full  face  fell  perceptibly, 
but  the  bright  smile  soon  reaj^peared  and  she 
told  her  companion  of  the  promise  she  had  made 
to  the  godfather  and  asked  that  she  keep  it  a 
secret. 

Down  Twenty-second  place  the  two  walked, 
the  "little  hunkie  immigrant"  chattering  gaily 
of  the  ring  and  the  things  that  were  to  come 
when  Frank  had  secured  the  job  in  the  cooling 
room. 

At  a  doorway  where  a  large  glass  sign  swung 
out  over  the  sidewalk,  they  turned  in.  A  light 
appeared  in  the  second  floor  window  several  mo- 
ments later.  Within  ten  minutes  the  two  men 
hurried  up  and  entered.  A  shade  was  drawn. 
Laughter  might  have  been  heard  by  a  passerby, 
but  West  Twenty-second  place  knows  few  pedes- 
trians durino^  the  later  hours. 

It  was  2:30  a.  m.  when  Valeska  returned  to 
the  hall.    The  dance  was  on  the  wane  and  several 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  103 

drunken  brawls  had  occurred.  A  good  many  of 
the  boys  and  young  men  present  were  intoxi- 
cated and  almost  as  many  girls. 

The  number  in  progress,  ostensibly  a  waltz, 
was  marked  by  extreme  "dips"  and  even  the 
"grizzly  bear."  The  officials  made  half-hearted 
attempts  to  clear  the  floor  of  the  offenders.  Here 
and  there  a  girl  screamed  shrilly. 

In  the  midst  of  an  argument  that  threatened 
to  result  seriously,  Valeska  returned  to  the  hall. 
At  one  side  of  the  dance  floor,  Frank  Dimitrivich 
stared  into  the  crowd  of  dancers.  Opposite  him 
Stanley  Latorski  leaned  against  a  pillar  and 
watched  the  door  eternally.  There  was  a  stolid- 
ity on  both  faces.  And  Valeska  entered  with  a 
dazed  air  of  familiarity. 

Her  face  was  pale  and  no  hint  of  the  rose- 
bloom  complexion  remained.  The  new  pink 
dress  was  mussed  and  disordered  and  there  was 
a  slight  bruise  on  her  right  cheek.  She  seemed 
to  move  in  a  sort  of  dream  and  her  bosom  heaved 
convulsively. 

Brother  and  sweetheart  sprang  forward  as  if 
actuated  by  a  single  impulse,  caught  her  be- 
tween them  as  she  swayed  uncertainly,  and 
bore  her  off  to  the  street. 

In  the  saloon  on  the  corner  they  placed  her 
in  a  chair  in  the  rear  room  and  waited.  The  lit- 
tle immigrant  girl  looked  from  one  to  the  other 
in  a  puzzled  manner  and  Stanley  put  a  protect- 


104  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

ing  arm  about  her  without  change  of  expression. 
Dimitrivich  stared  straight  ahead  at  the  wall — 
and — waited. 

In  the  left  hand,  the  hand  that  still  wore  the 
small  opal  ring,  Valeska  held  a  dirty  piece  of 
crumpled  paper.  She  glanced  at  the  silent  men 
before  her,  then  laid  the  bit  of  paper  on  the  table. 

"Stanislaus — Frank — the  ten  dollars  Valeska 
earned,"  she  said  thickly  and  uncertainly.  A 
strong  odor  of  whiskey  came  with  every  gasp  of 
breath. 

The  desk  sergeant  took  down  the  telephone 
receiver  and  yawned  lazily.  Probably  some  po- 
lice reporter  "ringing  the  stations." 

"Hello,"  he  shouted  into  the  instrument. 

"P^itzgerald,  ringing,  Sarge,"  said  a  voice. 
"That  hunkie  dance  at  Gavrilovicz  hall  just  end- 
ed in  a  riot ;  girl  killed ;  fellow  dyin' — with  a  ten 
dollar  bill  stuffed  down  his  throat.  Send  the 
wagon  and  the  ambulance,     All  right,  Sarge." 


CHAPTER  YII. 

A  Tragedy  en  Masque. 

THE  question  of  what  costumes  they  should 
wear  to  the  annual  Masque  and  Fancy 
Dress  Ball  of  the  Actors'  Athletic  club  (not 
for  profit),  caused  the  first  quarrel  between 
Gertrude  and  Tommy.  "Gert"  insisted  on  go- 
ing as  Laura  Jean  Libbey,  while  Tommy  as 
positively  declared  they  would  appear  in  the 
"School  Kids"  costume  he  had  selected  or  not  at 
all.  Whereupon  Miss  Gertrude  JNIahoney  gath- 
ered unto  herself  a  new  dignity,  slightly  out  of 
keeping  with  the  Irish  blue  of  her  eyes  and  "the 
canary  blond"  of  her  hair,  and  informed  Mr. 
Thomas  O'Neill  that  she  intended  going  as  Miss 
Libbey  whether  he  prepared  as  "an  ad  for  toast- 
ed corn  flakes  or  not." 

Further  than  that.  Miss  Mahoney  told  her 
hitherto  devoted  "steady"  that  she  had  practi- 
cally accepted  an  invitation  to  the  masquerade 
comical  from  Jimmy  (Dirk)  White  and,  finally, 
all  decision  in  the  matter  of  her  acceptance  was 
"up  to  him."  And  Miss  Mahoney  tossed  her 
blond  bangs  defiantly. 

But  Mr.  Thomas  O'Neill  also  had  his  Irish 

105 


106  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

up  and  he  replied  in  such  conclusive  terms  that 
"Gert"  stared  at  him  a  moment  in  stony  silence, 
then  drew  a  small  diamond  ring  from  her  fin- 
ger and  laid  it  dramatically  on  his  desk.  The 
scen«  occurred  in  the  railroad  office  where  both 
worked,  during  the  noon  hour  of  the  day  before 
the  dance  in  question.  Tommy  was  rate  clerk 
in  the  office,  and  "Gert"  was  stenographer  to 
the  chief  clerk.  They  had  been  keeping  "steady 
company"  for  the  past  six  months  and  the  small 
diamond  ring  on  Mr.  O'Neill's  desk  had  repre- 
sented an  ultimate  ambition  of  both. 

Miss  Mahoney  was  small,  graceful  and  pretty 
with  a  complexion  that  reminded  of  blossoms  of 
some  sort  or  other.  Her  hair  was  "canary 
blond"  as  has  been  said  and  Irish  blue  eyes  of  a 
violet  tendency  completed  the  picture,  for  she 
was  a  picture  in  the  appreciation  of  others  as 
well  as  the  refractory  Tommy.  The  latter  was 
short,  stock}%  with  a  jaw  that  warned  of  uncom- 
mon obstinacy. 

The  jaw  dropped  a  trifle  as  the  small  dia- 
mond ring  was  laid  carefully  on  the  desk  but 
he  made  no  effort  to  halt  the  haughtilj^,  trans- 
formed "Gert"  as  she  swept  out  of  the  office. 

And  so  "Gert"  went  to  the  masquerade  with 
out  Tommy  and  without  the  small  diamond  ring 
— but  not  as  Laura  Jean  Libbey.  At  the  last 
moment  she  became  a  millonaid,  hiring  a  cos- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  107 

tiime  t«^  fit  the  character.  At  her  side  appeared 
the  fiery,  red  hcMr  of  Jimmy  White,  who,  with 
peculiar  taste  had  chosen  a  suit  of  convict 
stripes. 

Jimmy,  in  addition  to  being  auburn  haired, 
was  good  natured  and  obhging  but — ^and  Jimmy 
himself,  might  have  agreed  to  this — "that  let 
him  out."  The  ball  was  to  be  held  in  the  CoU- 
seum  annex  and  it  was  quite  a  trip  from  Wood- 
lawn  to  15th  street  and  Wabash  avenue  on  a 
wet,  cold,  rainy  night. 

Under  the  auspices  of  the  Actors'  Athletic 
club  the  Masque  and  Fancy  Dress  Ball  had  been 
heralded  as  the  novelty  event  of  the  season. 
Tickets  had  been  sold,  given  away,  distributed 
with  a  prodigal  hand,  for  the  main  idea  was  to 
"get  the  crowd."  It  happened,  therefore,  that 
*^Gert"  had  come  into  possession  of  several  tick- 
ets from  "Pete"  Mack,  who,  by  virtue  of  his 
proprietorship  of  a  "nickel  show"  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Actors'  Athletic  club. 

The  hall  was  filling  rapidly  when  the  Arca- 
dian milkmaid  and  the  "gentleman  from  Joliet" 
entered.  An  orchestra  of  impressive  appear- 
ance was  providing  musical  inspiration  for  a 
mixed  crowd  that  Gert  called  "real  bohemians." 

Several  hundred  milkmaids,  "chorus  girls," 
Maud  Mullers,  Gold  Dust  Twins,  Mutts  and 
Jeffs,  "hoboes,"  "coppers,"  ballet  dancers,  Japa- 


108  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

nese  "fans,"  China  dolls  were  waltzing  about  the 
dance  floor. 

Of  the  several  hundred  present,  probably 
two-thirds  had  responded  to  the  call  of  the  en- 
ergetic promoters,  who  were  endeavoring  to  "get 
a  crowd."  Certain  it  is  that  the  city  never  held 
such  a  concourse  of  "actors,"  en  masque  or  oth- 
erwise. Masks  were  worn  by  all,  for  the  con- 
ventional was  of  paramount  importance.  Even 
Bohemia  had  its  conventions  and  the  counter- 
feit Bohemians  would  be  the  last  to  break  them. 

The  crowd  increased  steadily  and  "Gert" 
danced,  after  the  Bohemian  fashion,  with  every 
"actor"  who  felt  himself  attracted  by  the  milk- 
maid costume  and  the  canary  blond  hair.  By 
ten  o'clock,  when  the  grand  march  was  to  occur, 
the  hall  was  crowded  and  the  managers  of  the 
Actors'  Athletic  club  were  regretting  that  they 
had  not  engaged  the  Coliseum  proper,  "and 
gone  the  limit."  Reminiscent  of  the  days  when 
the  annual  First  Ward  Democracy  Ball,  the 
erstwhile  "Derby,"  held  forth  in  the  big  con- 
vention auditorium  on  Wabash  avenue,  was  the 
crowd  that  thronged  the  Annex.  Excepting, 
of  course,  that  no  such  concourse  of  gentlewom- 
en and  gentlemen  of  the  underworld  as  have 
graced  the  former  affair  could  have  been  per- 
suaded to  lay  aside  business  cares  for  a  social 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  109 

event  in  which  their  financial  welfare  was  not 
importantly  involved. 

The  dance  was  undoubtedly  a  "representa- 
tive" gathering.  The  term  "actor"  is  a  homo- 
geneous one  and  has  been  made  to  fit  all  classes 
of  cai'e  singers,  entertainers  of  the  red-light  dis- 
trict and  the  scarlet  women  by  and  for  whom 
they  find  an  existence  "on  Easy  street."  The 
Coliseum  Annex  at  all  events  was  crowded  "to 
the  guards,"  with  an  outpouring  of  all  those  ele- 
ments which  go  to  make  up  the  Bohemianism  of 
the  street,  the  cafe,  the  wineroom  and  the  levee 
at  large. 

And,  rubbing  elbows  with  the  men  and  women 
of  the  "restricted"  districts,  a  goodly  number 
of  Gertrude  Mahoneys  danced  in  blissful  igno- 
rance of  the  things  they  were  touching,  tasting, 
hearing.  Everywhere  the  spirit  of  "true  Bohe- 
mianism" found  expression  in  orders  that  kept 
"the  waiters  hopping"  and  made  for  the  un- 
precedented success  of  the  Actors'  Masque  and 
Fancy  Dress  ball.  The  smoke  from  several 
hundred  cigarettes  and  cigars  of  doubtful  odor, 
rose  to  the  high  arched  ceiling  and  floated  in  a 
dense  fog  above  the  heads  of  the  dancers.  The 
crowd  was  everywhere — filling  the  floor  to  the 
exclusion  of  everything,  even  the  dance,  crowd- 
ing the  pavilions  about  the  floor  in  a  pushing, 


110  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

surging,  jolting  mass  of  humanity,  fantastically 
garbed,  masked,  be  jeweled  and  beribboned. 

An  all-enveloping  thirst  was  on  the  assem- 
blage and  relief  was  not  to  be  found  in  the  hall, 
save  in  the  presence  of  the  hurrying  waiters. 
Beer  foamed  eternally,  wine  effervesced  occa- 
sionally, and  mixed  drinks  kept  a  force  of  bar- 
tenders at  work  without  pause.  Feminine  Jock- 
eys, in  vari-colored  silk  tights,  vied  with  scantily 
clad  "ballet  dancers"  in  "stowing  them  away." 
Eiverywhere  was  a  paucity  of  garb,  an  abun- 
dance of  liquid  refreshment,  a  carelessness  of 
speech  and  familiarity  of  action  that  constituted 
the  Bohemianism,  for  which  the  Annual  Masque 
and  Fancy  Dress  Ball  of  the  Actors'  Athletic 
association  was  designed. 

The  grand  march  proved  a  veritable  "witch- 
ery" of  color  and  costume.  Wood  nymphs, 
dianas  and  mythological  characters  that  per- 
mitted of  a  breezy  brevity  of  dress,  were  popu- 
lar among  the  women,  with  here  and  there  a 
"School  Kid"  or  Milkmaid,  proclaiming  the 
presence  of  the  Gertrude  Mahoneys,  who  had 
come  to  the  dance  in  response  to  the  lure  of 
Terpsichore — not  for  the  wine  of  "Bohemian- 
ism." 

The  men  in  the  grand  march  were  costumed 
with  a  tendency  toward  the  comic.  Tramps,  po- 
licemen, convicts,   Italian  street  singers,   boot- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  111 

blacks,  Happy  Hooligans,  clowns;  here  and 
there  a  female  impersonator  of  doubtful  char- 
ter. In  the  "grand  stroll,"  "Gert"  walked  with 
Jimmy  White.  At  the  conclusion  she  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  "actors,"  who  demanded 
dances  with  a  familiarity  that  surprised  her. 

"Me  for  you,  Blondie,  when  the  lights  go 
out,"  said  one  street  singer,  as  he  affixed  his  in- 
itials to  her  dance  card.  "Charles  S.,"  they  read 
and  "Gert"  looked  at  the  masked  face  in  a  puz- 
zled manner.  Many  of  the  dancers  had  dis- 
carded their  masks  because  of  the  heat,  but 
"Gert"  and  the  street  singer  still  retained 
theirs. 

"Charles  S. — what?"  she  queried,  for  there 
was  something  in  his  manner  that  puzzled. 

"Charles  S.  Deneen — it  might  be,  but  it  aint," 
he  answered  smilingly.  "I'll  put  you  wise  later, 
kid."  The  street  singer  was  young,  not  over 
twenty- two  or  tliree — "Gert"  was  not  yet 
eighteen — and  his  dark  complexion  and  eyes 
matched  the  character  he  had  assumed  perfect- 
ly. He  smiled  continually,  apparently  with 
the  intention  of  showing  a  glistening  row  of 
white  teeth.  His  smile  was  what  puzzled.  It 
was  not  the  broad  Irish  grin  of  Jimmy  White 
nor  yet,  the  slow,  good-natured  smile  of  Tommy 
O'Neill;  it  was  accompanied  by  a  peculiar  twist 
of  the  lips  that  drew  them  back  tightly  oveif  the 


112  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

glistening  row  of  teeth.  The  effect  was  that  of 
a  ruffled  dog.  exposing  his  gleaming  fangs  by 
a  curl  of  the  jowl. 

"Gert"  danced  with  Jimmy  for  several  num- 
bers, after  which  the  evening  was  given  over  to 
the  crowd  of  "actors"  who  had  taken  possession 
of  her  program.  The  opening  part  of  the  pro- 
gram included  twelve  dances  with  extras.  Four 
times  on  her  program  "Gert"  found  the  signa- 
ture of  the  street  singer  who  signed  himself 
"Charles  S."  When  the  red-haired  Jimmy 
White  had  taken  himself  off  to  other  divinities 
of  the  mask,  the  street  singer  in  corduroy  was 
at  "Gert's"  side,  strumming  on  the  tambourine 
of  a  "Mexican  senorita,"  with  whom  he  had 
danced  previously. 

He  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  the  hap- 
piest of  the  throng  of  Bohemians  that  shifted 
with  more  or  less  "poetry  of  motion"  about  the 
dance  floor.  Miss  Mahoney  found  herself  at- 
tracted in  spite  of  his  easy  familiarity  and  sin- 
ister smile,  for  the  counterfeit  Italian  was  a  fin- 
ished dancer  and  carried  himself  with  an  assur- 
ance that  was  lacking  in  many  of  the  "true  Bo- 
hemians" en  masque. 

About  the  hall  they  glided  in  the  rhythmic 
swing  of  a  "Parisian  Two-Step."  On  the  turns 
the  street  singer    carried    his    smaller    partner 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  113 

around  in  a  dervish-like  whirl  that  brought  them 
into  close  proximity. 

Save  for  the  fact  that  his  embrace  was  a  trifle 
too  amorous  and  his  manner  of  an  intimacy  that 
even  Tommy  O'Neill  would  not  have  attempted, 
"Gert"  was  pleased.  In  the  course  of  the  dance 
he  affected  an  airy  manner  and  whispered  soft- 
ly in  her  ear,  inviting  her  to  "cuddle  up  a  bit 
closer,  kid." 

His  air  was  careless,  easy,  debonair,  blase;  his 
manner  the  quintessence  of  sophistication;  his 
talk  rapid,  clever,  slangy  and  his  smile,  omni- 
present, humorous,  with  a  worldly  touch  of  cyn- 
icism. The  dance  was  short — six  or  seven  min- 
utes— and  after  an  encore  of  a  moment  or  two, 
the  street  singer  led  the  blond  millonaid  to  a 
table. 

"What'll  it  be,  Kiddo?"  he  inquired. 

"Water,"  answered  Gert,  smilingly.  Jimmj' 
White  was  at  an  opposite  table  negotiating  a 
"tall  one"  with  a  girl  whose  clothes  were  con- 
spicuous chiefly  for  the  absence  of  continuity. 
Low  cut  neck,  V-shape  back,  high  cut  skirt, 
barely  approaching  the  knee  with  its  lowest  ruf- 
fle, narrow  strap  across  the  shoulders,  bare 
arms  and  blue  gauze  stockings.  "Gert"  was  ap- 
preciably shocked,  but  Jimmy  only  grinned. 

"Come  out  of  it,"  said  the  street  singer. 
"Don't  kid  me.    What'll  it  be — beer  or  mixed, 


114  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

make  it  wine  if  you  want  but  don't  order  water 
to  go  with  that  costume.  I'm  thirsty — what  d'ye 
say  to  a  spht  of  the  conversation  water?" 

"I  don't  drink,  Charles  S.,"  said  "Gert"  with 
a  smile.  "Make  it  something  soft  and  I'll  drink 
with  you." 

"Claret  lemonade  and  a  rickey,"  said  the 
masked  Italian  with  a  wink  at  the  waiter  that 
escaped  his  companion. 

"Sure,"  said  the  perspiring  personage  of  the 
tray.  "I  gotcha,  Steve."  He  grinned  at 
"Gert"  and  hurried  off. 

The  drinks  were  bought  and  paid  for  with  a 
generous  tip  for  the  waiter.  The  girl  glanced 
curiously  at  the  "claret  lemonade"  and  tasted  it 
warily  while  the  street  singer  flashed  his  twisted 
smile  at  Jimmy  White,  who  stared  back. 

"Gert"  was  thirsty  and  the  drink  soon  was 
disposed  of. 

Two  others  were  ordered  and  drunk  and 
"Gert"  wondered  vaguely  why  the  tang  of  the 
lemon  was  noticeable  only  faintly.  The  drink 
was  pleasant  and  cooling  at  any  rate,  and  from 
behind  his  glass  "Charles  S."  cast  his  twisted 
smile  at  the  arched  roof. 

The  music  started  for  the  next  number  and 
the  young  couple  glided  out  onto  the  floor  with 
an  exhilarated  step.  The  waiter  followed  them 
with  interest. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  115 

"Gert"  felt  uncommonly  warm  and  she  won- 
dered at  the  fever  that  led  her  to  transform  the 
two-step  into  a  rushing  three-step.  The  street 
singer  whispered  amorously  as  before  and  on 
the  turns  carried  her  close  in  a  whirl,  that  ended 
in  a  graceful  reverse.  "G^rt"  listened  with  half- 
closed  eyes  and  thought  in  a  detached  sort  of  a 
way  of  Tommy  O'Neill's  limitations. 

Tommy  would  have  scorned  the  whispered  en- 
dearments that  flowed  softly  from  the  sophisti- 
cated lips  of  the  street  singer.  The  pressure  of 
his  arm  about  the  dainty  Miss  Mahoney's  waist 
was  enchanting  to  that  romantic  young  woman. 
It  was  her  romantic  ideas  that  had  led  to  the 
quarrel  with  Mr.  O'Neill.  Mr.  O'Neill  had  been 
prosaically  practical;  aU  the  romance  in  his  na- 
ture came  to  the  surface  with  the  small  diamond 
ring  she  had  placed  on  his  desk  so  scornfully  the 
day  before. 

Of  course,  Mr.  O'Neill  was  not  present  at  the 
dance.  The  defection  of  "Gert"  had  precluded 
that  possibility.  Socially,  Tommy  went  only 
whither  the  "canary  blond"  and  Irish  blue  eyes 
beckoned  him  and  for  the  first  time  in  six  months 
the  imperious  nod  of  his  golden  haired  divinity 
had  been  directed  at  another. 

The  dance  floor  had  been  cleared  somewhat 
and  none  but  those  in  costume  appeared  on  the 
polished  surface.     The  others  remained  at  the 


116  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

tables  smoking,  chatting,  laughing  and  drink- 
ing. The  waiters  had  been  "kept  hopping"  all 
evening  at  a  corresponding  profit  to  the  bar  and 
to  the  promoters  of  the  dance.  Evidences  of  the 
effect  had  appeared  but  spasmodically. 

The  number  ended  and  the  encore  accompani- 
ment proved  a  dreamy  waltz,  in  the  course  of 
which,  the  make-believe  Italian's  arm  moved  up 
about  "Gert's"  neck  and  her  golden  head  rested 
lightly  on  his  shoulder. 

They  sat  the  long  intermission  out  at  a  table 
over  an  "actor's  drink"  which  her  companion  ex- 
plained was  a  "harmless"  cordial  known  as  a 
"pousse  cafe."  "Gert"  gazed  into  the  thimble 
glass  before  her,  wondering  in  a  disinterested 
manner  what  caused  the  interchange  of  colors 
and  the  soft  shading  of  the  oily  liquor.  At  the 
adjoining  table  the  fiery  head  of  Jimmy  White 
was  visible.  He  was  sitting  close  to  the  ballet- 
dancer  of  abbreviated  costume,  one  arm  about 
her  waist  and  he  patted  her  shoulder  affection- 
ately. Jimmy's  eyes  were  heavy  and  his  face 
matched  the  auburn  color  of  his  hair. 

"Gert"  glanced  at  him  indifferently,  wonder- 
ing vaguely  who  the  girl  was.  White's  compan- 
ion had  removed  her  mask,  as  had  Jimmy,  and 
her  face  appeared  thin,  rather  pretty.  On  the 
table  before  her  a  glass  rested,  and  a  slight 
drooping  of  the  eyelids  told  of  numerous  other 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  117 

libations.  The  majority  of  the  dancers  had  re- 
moved their  masks  because  of  the  extreme  heat, 
but  "Gert"  and  her  companion  retained  theirs. 
The  street  singer  was  smihng  as  he  watched  the 
changing  expression  on  his  pretty  companion's 
face. 

"Gert"  sipped  the  warm  cordial  slowly.  The 
small  silken  mask  that  hid  her  eyes  contrasted 
strikingly  with  the  warm  flush  that  had  super- 
seded her  natural,  blossomy  complexion.  She 
leaned  forward  when  the  young  man  in  the  cor- 
durojr  suit  spoke  and  listened  with  an  eager 
light  in  her  eyes.  The  cavalier  in  corduroy  saw, 
and  smiled  with  an  expression  that  was  as  sinis- 
ter as  it  was  cynical. 

About  the  hall,  effects  were  beginning  to  ap- 
pear. The  crowd  as  a  whole  was  ordererly,  but 
here  and  there  a  couple  in  open  embrace,  or  a 
girl  with  her  masculine  companion's  head  on  her 
lap  warned  of  the  inroads  of  liquor.  In  the 
balcony  several  couples  were  executing  the 
* 'grizzly  bear"  dance  to  an  admiring  audience 
and,  to  the  initiated,  the  byplay  was  recognizable 
as  "the  real  thing." 

The  floor  committee  had  its  hands  full  elimi- 
nating the  "rounder"  and  the  unwise  "dipper" 
from  the  dance  and  several  personal  encounters 
had  resulted  already.  In  the  smoking  room  dis- 
cussion of  the  "stuff  that's  floating  around"  was 


118  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

general.  Several  young  men  had  already 
"dated"  their  respective  girls,  while  others  were 
arranging  "parties."  In  the  pavilion  two  young 
girls — patently  not  over  16 — were  permitting 
their  boy  companions  to  "fix"  their  garters. 

Both  girls  had  vied  with  their  older  sisters  in 
''putting  away  the  tall  ones"  and  their  conversa- 
tion testified  to  the  effect.  In  the  crowd  could 
be  seen  many  of  the  respectables  who  were  en- 
joying the  dance  and  that  only.  Thus  far  the 
announced  attraction,  the  mask  ball,  had  been 
kept  free  from  abuses  and  officers  of  the  Actors' 
Athletic  club  were  congratulating  themselves 
on  a  grand  success  and  "a  good,  straight  mas- 
querade." 

"Gert"  danced  constantly,  and  with  many 
partners,  but  ever  recurrently,  appeared  the 
young  Italian  street  singer  of  the  twisted  smile. 
In  the  smoking  room  he  was  found  in  low-toned 
conversation  with  an  older  man  who  chewed 
nervously  on  a  cigar.  They  shook  hands  finally 
and  the  man  in  corduroy  returned  to  his  blond 
companion  as  the  music  for  a  "moonlight"  waltz 
began. 

They  glided  out  on  the  floor  and  the  accom- 
paniment softened  until  only  the  soft  wail  of  the 
violins  was  wafted  out  on  the  warm  air  of  the 
dance  hall.  It  was  a  "moonlight"  dance  and  the 
theatrical  organization  had  prepared  for  it  in  ef- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  119 

fective  style.  The  lights  went  out  suddenly  and 
silence  reigned  for  an  instant.  Then  the  soft 
glow  of  a  radium  electric  cluster  shone  down 
from  the  center  of  the  ceiling  surrounded  by  a 
darkened  field  of  blue  gauze.  The  "moon"  ap- 
peared, accompanied  by  an  illusion  of  winking 
stars,  in  the  form  of  miniature  incandescent 
bulbs.  As  the  "moonlight"  grew  stronger,  the 
orchestra  swung  into  a  low  Lehar  waltz  and  the 
dance  began  dreamily.  The  crowd  was  silent, 
save  for  a  tinkling  glass  or  suppressed  laugh. 

About  the  hall  the  shadowy  figures  of  the 
dancers,  in  their  fantastic  garb,  appeared  in  the 
"moonlight"  with  a  romantic  effect  that  im- 
pressed even  the  thirsty  ones  at  the  tables.  The 
illusion  held  for  a  few  moments.  Even  the  fetid 
air  seemed  to  grow  balmy  under  its  influence. 

"Gert"  and  her  murmuring  partner  swung 
languidly  about  the  hall  in  perfect  rhythm  and 
step.  Her  head  rested  naturally  on  his  shoulder 
and  one  hand  was  placed  on  his  arm.  The  sere- 
nading cavalier  guided  her  about  with  an  air  of 
possession.  In  the  make-believe  moonlight  his 
smile  seemed  more  twisted  than  ever. 

The  little  Irish  girl  was  deaf  to  the  rattle  of 
bottles  and  glasses,  the  doubtful  language  of  the 
thirsty  spectators  and  the  occasional  ribaldry  of 
a  girl  or  man.     In  the  middle  of  the  number  a 


120  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

feminine  voice  from  the  balcony  began  a  trem- 
ulous contralto  of  the  waltz-song. 

"Here's  to  the  last  girl;  here's  to  the  best 
girl;  here's  to  the  girl  that  I  love,"  sang  the 
voice.  "Gert"  glided  instinctively  in  the  em- 
brace of  her  cavaUer  in  corduroy.  She  glanced 
into  her  partner's  eyes,  but  missed  the  cynical 
twist  of  his  smile. 

The  song  trailed  into  silence  and  the  dance 
halted.  "Gert"  found  herself  in  the  center  of 
the  floor,  directly  beneath  the  "moonlight"  clus- 
ter that  seemed  to  radiate  enchantment.  Her 
arm  rested  over  the  street  singer's  shoulder  and 
her  face  was  upturned,  with  a  small,  curved 
mouth,  beneath  the  silken  neck,  smiling  invit- 
ingly. 

The  cavalier's  arm  drew  the  "canary  blond's" 
head  close.  He  raised  the  mask  a  trifle  and 
kissed  her. 

"Here's  to  the  last  girl;  here's  to  the  best 
girl ;  here's  to  the  girl  that  I  love,"  he  sang  softly 
and  kissed  her  again.  Several  couples  near  by 
caught  the  tableau  and  smiled — neither  softly 
nor  tenderly. 

"Gert"  started  as  the  lights  flashed  on  again 
and  blushed  as  she  felt  her  companion's  twisted 
smile  upon  her. 

"Shall  we  unmask?"  the  girl  asked.    He  nod- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  121 

ded  and  the  black  silk  masks  were  laid  upon  the 
table. 

"Drink  with  me,  my  dear,"  he  smiled  and  the 
blond  head  nodded  trustingly.  The  waiter 
grinned  more  broadly  than  ever. 

"Charley — what?"  queried  the  girl  as  earlier 
in  the  evening.  The  erstwhile  street  singer,  re- 
vealed as  a  dark,  pale  young  man  of  elegant  ap- 
pearance, hesitated  momentarily.  Then  he 
passed  a  little  bit  of  pasteboard  across  the  table, 
on  which  appeared 


CHARLES  S.  HERROLD, 

Entertainer. 
Pollack  Ben's. 


"Charley — dear,"  said  the  unmasked  cava- 
lier. "Gert"  smiled  as  the  drinks  were  brought. 
The  waiter  winked  ostentatiously  at  Herrold  as 
he  set  down  the  drink,  an  absinthe  frappe,  be- 
fore the  girl.  The  masked  portion  of  the  pro- 
gram had  been  concluded  and  a  group  of  judges 
was  deciding  the  award  of  prizes  for  the  most 
novel  dressed  groups  of  men,  of  girls  and  for  sin- 
gle characters. 


122  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Half  a  dozen  cases  of  beer  were  to  be  given  to 
the  winning  group  of  men,  while  a  group  of  six 
girls  was  given  a  bottle  of  champagne  for  each. 

The  music  for  the  general  dance  began  and 
the  man  in  corduroy  turned  to  his  companion. 
Her  head  had  dropped  to  her  hand  and  she 
gazed  across  the  table  with  a  hazy  smile  for  her 
companion.  Over,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hall,  a  red-haired  youth  leaned  drunkenly 
against  the  wall,  a  foolish  smile  on  his  face. 

"Let's  go  home,  Charley,  dear,"  said  the  little 
milkmaid  with  the  golden  hair  and  trusting  eyes. 
"My  head  is  tired  and  I'm  sick  of  dancing."  The 
man  in  corduroy  gathered  the  masks  up  and  ad- 
justed his  to  cover  the  upper  part  of  his  face. 
Then — street  singer  and  milkmaid,  masked  as 
before,  left  the  Annual  Masque  and  Fancy 
Dress  Ball  of  the  Actors'  Union;  left  the  bogus 
Bohemia  of  wine,  women  and  song,  the  enchant- 
ment of  a  make-believe  "moonlight,"  the  illusion 
of  the  masquerade  and  the  smirking  waiter,  who 
smiled  the  sinister  smile  of  sophistication. 

On  Wabash  avenue,  before  the  Coliseum  An- 
nex, stood  a  row  of  taxicabs.  The  chauffeur  of 
one  smiled  a  recognition  for  the  man  in  corduroy. 
Milkmaid  and  street  singer  entered — still 
masked — and  a  bystander  heard  a  voice  from  the 

cab:    "Cadillac  hotel." 

*     *     *     * 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  123 

At  the  entrance  to  the  Coliseum  Annex  a  red- 
haired  youth  waited.  He  glanced  impatiently  a 
a  clock  that  pointed  to  2:30  a.  m.  The  last  of 
the  crowd  in  attendance  at  the  Annual  Masque 
and  Fancy  Dress  Ball  of  the  Actors'  Athletic 
Club  was  leaving  the  hall.  The  last  couple 
passed  through  the  door  and  out  into  the  wet 
street.  A  porter  appeared  to  lock  the  door  and 
in  response  to  a  question  from  the  red-haired 
youth,  answered:  "All  gone  now.  There's  no 
one  in  the  hall  at  all." 

The  sound  of  an  approaching  car  rang  down 
the  deserted  street.  The  young  man  buttoned 
his  coat. 

"Ditched  me  and  I  might  as  well  go  home. 
Some  one  musta  picked  her  up,"  he  muttered,  as 
the  car  stopped.  He  swung  aboard  and  a  single 
arc-light  winked  evilly  at  the  Coliseum  Annex. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Teagedy  of  the  Telephone  Giel. 

ESSIE  was  a  telephone  operator  in  a  south 
side  exchange.  The  past  tense  is  used  for 
the  reason  that  Bessie  is  no  longer  a  telephone 
operator. 

Bessie  was  eighteen  years  of  age  and  prettier 
than  the  general  run  of  telephone  operators  are 
imagined  to  be.  Bessie  was  a  good  operator  and 
she  had  been  "at  the  business"  of  inserting  plugs 
and  crossing  wirs  for  two  years. 

Bessie  lived  at  home  with  her  parents  and  with 
two  sisters,  one  an  operator  and  the  other  a  ste- 
nographer. Her  father  was  a  plumber  and  con- 
trived to  make  both  ends  meet  without  calling 
on  the  girls  for  any  great  amount  of  assistance. 
All  three  girls  were  good  looking,  but  Bessie  was 
the  "star  of  the  stable,"  as  her  father  often  re- 
marked. She  was  likewise  the  least  stable  of 
the  three. 

The  other  two  girls,  Frances  and  Josie,  had 
"steadies,"  but  Bessie  laughed  at  the  idea  of  ty- 
ing herself  down  to  any  one  "fellow"  when  the 
sea  was  so  full  of  fish.  She  was  the  youngest 
and  the  least  ambitious  of  the  three  daughters. 

124 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  125 

Marriage  was  an  indefinite  probability,  work  a 
temporary  hardship,  and  the  men  things  to  be 
fooled  with  at  a  dance  or  the  theater,  then  passed 
along  to  some  one  else. 

Bessie  flirted  at  every  opportunity  and  many 
were  the  dates  she  made  with  fellows  over  the 
wire  while  at  work  in  the  south  side  exchange. 
Her  father  allowed  her  to  purchase  a  fair 
amount  of  feminine  finery  at  her  own  discretion 
and  Bessie  attended  all  the  dances  of  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

Sunday  evenings  found  her  regularly  at  Sans 
Souci  dance  hall,  with  a  girl  companion,  some- 
times a  man.  There  she  danced  the  evening 
away,  made  "dates"  with  the  "fellows"  for  fu- 
ture dances  and  met  new  "fellows."  Questions 
of  the  conventions  never  bothered  Bessie ;  a  sense 
of  propriety  was  hers  as  a  natural  thing  and  in 
spite  of  her  joyful  laxity  in  the  smaller  issues, 
Bessie  was  as  "straight  as  a  string." 

Bessie  would  not  drink  anything  "harder  than 
your  crust,"  as  she  told  a  young  man  who  ex- 
tended an  invitation  one  evening.  She  would 
not  smoke  and  while  she  could  "walk  the  cor- 
ners" or  do  the  "dip"  with  the  next  one,  she  abso- 
lutely refused  to  allow  familiarities  outside  the 
dance. 

Bessie  was  "no  Sunday  school  Vv^orker."  She 
would  inform  vou  to  that  effect.    The  difference 


126  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

between  her  and  some  other  "regulars"  of  Sans 
Souci  lay  only  in  the  fact  that  Bessie  went  so 
far  when  a  sense  of  physical  danger  warned  her 
that  it  was  time  to  "back  up  and  sand  her  tracks." 
The  others,  in  the  parlance,  "went  the  limit." 

On  Sunday  evenings  Bessie  arrived  at  Sans 
Souci  dance  hall  shortly  after  eight  o'clock.  On 
one  Sunday  evening  in  particular  she  arrived  a 
little  bit  later.  The  orchestra  was  playing  a 
ragtime  air  that  encouraged  the  "dippers"  to 
renewed  activity.  With  Bessie  was  another  tele- 
phone operator,  Nellie  Cooney,  and  the  two  girls 
had  come  with  the  avowed  intention  of  picking 
up  some  "lives  ones."  The  charge  for  admit- 
tance was  twenty-five  cents,  with  an  additional 
five  cents  for  wardrobe  accommodations.  There 
was  no  bar  in  connection  and  return  checks  were 
not  given  at  the  door.  The  hall  had  become 
known  as  "dead"  for  this  reason. 

In  the  balcony  the  girls  found  their  "live 
ones,"  two  young  men  of  the  college  variety, 
much  perfume  and  scented  cigarettes.  With  the 
informality  of  the  public  dance,  the  "live  ones" 
bowed  before  the  newcomers  and  requested  the 
"next  crawl."  Bessie  smiled,  rather  in  amuse- 
ment, for  her  "live  one,"  answering  to  the  name 
of  George,  appeared  as  nothing  more  formida- 
ble than  an  overdressed  young  man  sadly  lack- 
ing in  balance.     He  was  well  dressed  and  care- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  127 

fully  groomed  and  spoke  with  an  affected  air 
that  contrasted  poorly  with  Bessie's  pert  manner 
of  address. 

"What  breeze  did  you  blow  in  on?"  she  asked 
as  they  glided  out  on  the  floor.  The  ©ther 
winked  at  her  wisely  and  said: 

"You  watch  my  smoke,  kid.  Follow  me  and 
you'll  wear  diamonds."  All  of  which,  while 
rather  stale  repartee,  amused  Bessie. 

Nellie's  "fellow"  was  tall,  thin  and  insinuating 
with  a  tendency  towards  the  "rounder's"  dance. 
A  large  diamond  ring  was  ostentatiously  dis- 
played on  the  ring  finger  of  his  left  hand.  His 
scarf  pin  and  cufflinks  were  also  jeweled.  Both 
"hve  ones"  seemed  bent  on  making  an  impres- 
sion on  the  girls  they  had  "picked  up,"  but  Bes- 
sie's partner  made  a  serious  mistake. 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  he  gave  vent 
to  an  expression  that  caused  the  smiling  girl  at 
his  side  to  stiffen  and  stop. 

"Now,  that'll  do  for  you,  my  friend,"  she 
warned  him.  "I  can  stand  for  some  things,  but 
none  of  that  rough  stuff.  If  you  think  you've 
picked  up  one  of  the  rounders  you're  used  to 
you've  got  another  think  coming.  I'm  out  for 
a  good  time,  but  I'm  not  an  owl  and  I  want  you 
to  know  it  in  advance." 

George  bowed  apologies.  The  girl  soon  re- 
gained her  good  humor.     An  outsider  might 


128  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

have  seen  good  reason  in  the  incident  for  break- 
ing off  the  acquaintance  thus  easily  gained,  but 
not  so  Bessie.  She  knew  how  to  handle  these 
"Wilhes"  and  she  intended  to  show  this  fellow 
a  thing  or  two  before  she  left  him. 
Throughout  the  evening  both  girls  danced 
intermittently  with  the  "live  ones."  Nellie 
seemed  to  have  made  rapid  progress  with  the 
man  she  had  "hooked"  and  in  the  slower  dances, 
found  herself  in  close  proximity  to  the  tall  one. 
In  the  course  of  the  dance  he  murmured  inces- 
santly in  her  ear  and  the  girl  laughed  aloud  at 
times. 

George  was  finding  his  "blonde  piece"  a  puz- 
zling  proposition.      In   the   washroom   he   con- 
sulted with  his  friend  who  had  been  introduced 
as  Fred  Jordan. 
"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  I've  got  mine  lashed  to  the  mast,  but 
you're  slow,  my  boy,  slow,"  he  answered,  "It's 
a  shame  we  can't  get  a  drink  here  once  in  a 
while.  Nothing  gets  'em  like  a  little  of  the 
^smoothest'  stuff.    What'll  we  do  after?" 

"Let's  take  in  the  chop  suey  restaurant  on  the 
next  corner,"  replied  George.  "The  little 
blonde  is  certainly  some  kid,  but  she  won't  stand 
for  any  rough  stuff  just  now.  I'll  get  her  num- 
ber or  my  name's  not  Gold.    Downtown  after?" 

"Just  as  you  say,  Goldie,"  agreed  the  other. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  129 

"I've  got  mine  nailed  to  the  mast  and  she'll  go." 
They  returned  to  the  dance  floor  and  met  their 
partners  in  the  pavilion.  The  taller  one  reminded 
Bessie  vaguely  of  some  one  and  she  finally  re- 
membered that  she  had  seen  him  several  times 
in  the  saloon  on  the  corner,  wearing  a  white  suit 
that  proclaimed  his  position.  He  was  a  bar- 
tender. George  had  told  her  that  he  was  an  en- 
tertainer in  downtown  cafes  and  that  he  made 
"lots  of  soft  graft."  She  puzzled  a  bit  over  the 
last  statement,  but  nothing  ever  worried  Bessie 
for  long  and  she  soon  dismissed  it. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  dance,  both  men  dis- 
appeared and  the  girls  decided  that  the  "live 
ones"  had  "ditched"  them.  They  reappeared, 
however,  just  before  the  final  number  and 
danced  it  with  their  "pickups." 

As  they  left  the  hall  the  men  walked  them 
southward.  Bessie  glanced  ahead  in  surprise. 
They  were  crossing  Sixty-first  street  and  she 
lived  north. 

"Where  to?"  she  asked  briefly  of  her  escort. 

"Oh,  we'll  go  up  and  have  a  little  chop  suey 
and  a  few  drinks.  Then  it's  up  to  you  where 
we  go."  Bessie  looked  him  full  in  the  face  and 
laughed. 

"Is  that  so?  Well,  I'll  tefl  you  right  here 
that  if  we  go  up  there  I  do  no  drinking  and  that 
goes."     Nellie  glanced  curiously  at  her  friend. 


130  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

She  was  only  a  casual  acquaintance  and  did  not 
know  the  Carter  girl  as  well  as  might  have 
appeared. 

"Oh,  come  on,  Bess,"  she  said.  "We'll  go  uji 
and  have  a  little  chop,  and  you  don't  have  to 
drink  if  j^ou  don't  want  to.  I'm  as  thirsty  as  a 
fish,  but  you  can  have  a  glass  of  buttermilk  if 
you  want  to." 

Bessie's  companion  attempted  to  "kid"  her 
and  she  resolved  again  to  "show  these  WilHes." 

They  ascended  to  a  Chinese  restaurant.  The 
floor  manager  nodded  to  the  young  men  and 
ushered  them  into  a  booth  in  a  far  corner.  A 
curtain  was  drawn  and  a  candelabra  lighted  the 
booth. 

Bessie  took  a  seat  with  a  shghtly  puzzled  air. 
It  was  "a  new  game  on  her"  and  she  glanced 
from  one  of  the  men  to  the  other  for  an 
explanation. 

"Just  to  keep  the  outsiders  from  rubbering," 
said  the  tall  man,  smiling  softly  across  the  table. 
The  waiter  appeared  and  all  ordered  "real" 
drinks  with  the  exception  of  Bessie,  who  called 
for  water.  The  drinks  appeared  and  an  order 
for  chop  suey  was  given.  Bessie  came  out  of  her 
"shell"  at  the  invitation  of  Nellie  and  soon  for- 
got the  distrust  that  had  been  engendered  by 
the  peculiar  tactics  of  the  escorts. 

Nellie  had  attained  a  degree  of  familiarity 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  131 

with  her  companion  that  was  surprising  to  Bes- 
sie. At  one  side  of  the  table  she  sat  with  the 
tall  young  man  who  applied  himself  to  the  con- 
sumption of  a  drink  he  called  "suisesse." 

The  other  man,  George,  put  his  arm  familiarly 
behind  Bessie.  She  started  to  object,  but  for 
some  reason  halted  herself  and  allowed  him  to 
keep  it  at  the  back  of  her  chair. 

Bessie  drank  her  water  and  the  men,  followed 
by  Nellie,  began  a  round  of  drinks  that  soon 
had  its  effect  on  the  latter.  Bessie  persisted  in 
her  refusal  to  drink  anything  "hard,"  but  was 
finally  persuaded  to  try  suisesse.  The  drink 
seemed  perfectly  harmless  and  was  pleasant  to 
the  taste  and  smell.  Three  others  followed  with- 
out result. 

The  meal  had  been  finished  and  cigarettes  pro- 
duced by  the  men.  Nellie  accepted  one  and 
puffed  clouds  of  smoke  in  a  blase  manner  over 
the  villainous  looking  highballs  she  was  drink- 
ing. The  little  operator's  face  was  flushed  and 
her  eyes  were  heavy  and  gleamed  brightly.  She 
began  to  talk  a  bit  noisily,  but  the  man  at  her 
side  pulled  her  to  his  knee  and  soon  silenced  her. 
A  peculiar  expression  was  on  his  face  and  he 
glanced  continually  in  Bessie's  direction.  The 
man  called  "George"  had  moved  closer  and  Bes- 
sie permitted  him  to  support  her  in  half  embrace 
that  was  not  entirely  complete. 


132  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

One,  two  more  drinks  had  Bessie  and  then  she 
lost  count.  A  haze  settled  over  her  brain  and 
she  saw  the  escort's  face  close  to  hers.  She  tried 
to  raise  herself  from  the  partially  recumbent 
position  she  felt  herself  in,  but  the  other  held 
her  gently  back. 

To  Bessie  it  seemed  that  the  intermittent  click- 
ing of  a  telephone  instrument  was  in  her  ear. 

"Number  please?"  she  called. 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  as  the  fresh 
young  man  replied : 

"We've  got  youi'  number,  kid;  ring  off." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Factory  Girl. 

ROSIE  worked  "by  the  factory."  Many  of 
the  other  PoHsh  girls  of  the  neighborhood 
were  emploj^ed  "by"  the  big  carriage  factory  of 
the  Kimball  company  at  West  26th  street  and 
South  California  boulevard,  but  Rosie  Kopec 
ranked  them  all  in  seniority  of  service  despite  her 
sixteen  short  j^ears  of  mundane  existence. 

Rosie  had  been  working  for  four  years — ever 
since  the  sixth  reader  at  St.  Stanislaus'  parochial 
school  had  been  abandoned  for  the  textbook  of 
labor — and  Rosie  was  wise  in  the  ways  of  the  in- 
dustrial world.  One  year  "by  tlie  factory"  is  an 
education  in  itself,  and  she  had  sp<;nt  four  hard 
years  in  the  "cloth  room"  where  nearly  a  hun- 
dred "dzweczynas"  (girls)  prepared  the  stiff 
over  fabric  for  the  upholsterers. 

Among  the  others,  Rosie  was  a  personage,  for 
had  slie  not  been  raised  in  salary  three  times  dur- 
ing the  four  years  in  the  cloth  room?  Her  weekly 
wage  had  reached  the  sum  of  $7,  and  in  conse- 
quence thereof,  Rosie's  wardrobe  boasted  of  more 
feminine  finery  than  fell  to  the  portion  of  the 
Qther  girls. 

133 


134  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Of  course,  Rosie  had  her  "fellows."  Who  of 
the  Pohsh  "bubas"  (boys)  of  26th  street  was  not 
susceptible  to  the  charms  of  a  divinity  whose  hair 
reminded  of  raven's  wing  or  Bock  beer,  and 
whose  bracelets  jangled  as  the  adornments  of  an 
oriental  dancer  ?  What  mattered  it,  that  Rosie's 
hands  were  hard  and  roughened  from  the  stiff 
cloth  of  the  factory,  or  that  her  selection  among 
the  perfumes  of  Ashland  avenue  inclined  toward 
the  odoriferous  rather  than  the  delicate?  Her 
dress  was  the  best,  compatible  with  the  latest 
Halsted  street  modes,  and  Rosie's  eyes  were 
always  bright. 

Rosie's  life  of  labor  in  the  carriage  factory  had 
taught  her  many  things,  some  of  them  better 
unlearnt,  but  the  little  Polish  girl's  mother  would 
assure  you  vehemently  that  her  "dzewczyna"  was 
a  good  girl  and,  if  you  happened  to  understand 
the  Polska  powattanie,  that  "the  faith  of  the 
fathers  would  keep  her  in  the  light  of  heaven." 
So  Rosie  had  her  work,  her  "fellow^s"  and  her 
pleasures,  for  on  Saturday  night,  with  the  long 
Sunday  intervening  for  rest,  the  lights  and  music 
of  Kurland's  dance  hall  beckoned  all  to  the  lure 
of  the  dance. 

Every  Saturday  evening  found  Rosie  at  the 
dances,  sometimes  with  John  Pintrowski,  occa- 
sionally with  Adam  Marcinkiewitz,  but  more 
often  it  was  Casimir  Kijersky  that  became  the 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  135 

escort.  Casimir  also  worked  "by^'  the  carriage 
factory,  but  he  was  an  upholsterer  and  three 
years  of  apprenticeship  had  brought  him  a  salary 
exceeding  even  that  of  Rosie's  father. 

Casimir  was  twenty-one  years  of  age  and 
under  the  stimulus  of  his  $18  per  week,  had  begun 
to  think  of  taking  unto  himself  a  wife.  Rosie 
Kopec  appealed  as  an  ideal  possibility,  for  Rosie 
was  the  exact  antithesis  of  the  stolid  Polish  boy. 
She  was  pretty,  she  was  light  hearted  and  fine 
clothes  and  the  dances  at  Kurland's  hall  were 
her  greatest  passions.  Casimir  cared  nothing  for 
the  dance;  he  was  sober  minded;  and  finery, 
whether  of  the  masculine  or  feminine  variety, 
was  to  him  a  useless  superfluity. 

Casimir  attended  the  dance  because  Rosie  went 
and  because,  among  the  Americanized  Poles  of 
West  26th  street  the  dance  was  an  accepted 
channel  for  all  courtships.  Sometimes  the  dance 
was  given  by  one  of  the  Polish  societies  of  the 
neighborhood,  sometimes  a  club  "ran"  the  affair, 
but  always  on  Saturday  night  the  lights  and 
music  of  Kurland's  hall  and  the  saloon  below 
beckoned  all  to  the  lure  of  the  dance. 

Among  the  elite,  Kurland's  hall  might  not 
have  been  considered  a  fitting  place  of  amuse- 
ment for  even  a  Polish  "dzewczyna"  endeavoring 
to  "keep  in  the  light  of  heaven,"  but  the  stand- 
ards of  26th  street  passed  it  and,  should  a  com- 


136  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

munity  not  be  unto  itself  a  law?  It  was  true  that 
the  dances  in  Kurland's  "place"  occasionally 
broke  up  before  the  stipulated  hour  in  fights  and 
that  rumor  often  placed  the  blame  for  more  than 
one  girl's  fall  from  grace  on  its  influence,  but 
what  of  that,  argued  its  adherents.  Were  not  the 
newspapers  full  of  the  same  thing  as  happening 
in  more  favored  communities  than  West  26th 
street?  Who  of  the  gilded  ballrooms  and  exclu- 
sive dancing  academies  was  to  answer  ? 

Rosie  had  been  going  to  the  dances  for  nearly 
a  year  and  she  liad  become  proficient  in  the 
Terpsichorean  art  as  interpreted  at  2954  West 
25th  street,  which  was  Kurland's.  Rosie's  par- 
ents did  not  object,  save  occasionally  when  the 
"dzewezyne"  attended  a  dance  unescorted.  Then 
her  mother  scolded  shrilly  in  Polish  while  the 
father  warned  bluntly :  "Dose  goops  from  Ash- 
land avenue  gets  you  some  night,  maybe."  But 
usually  Casimir  attended,  and  she  was  permitted 
to  dance  the  evening  and  part  of  the  following 
morning  away,  as  no  unimportant  member  of  the 
beauty  and  chivalry  of  26th  street. 

Rosie  enjoyed  the  hurried,  rushing,  strenuous 
dances  of  Kurland's  and  she  fairly  thrived  on 
the  long,  cool  glasses  of  beer  during  the  intermis- 
sions. Rosie  was  fond  of  her  "hops,"  but  the 
"faith  of  the  fathers"  had  always  proven  strong 
enough  to  deter  her  from  following  the  example 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  137 

of  other  girls  and  drinking  the  strong  wines 
and  whiskeys,  prominent  among  Kurland's  stock. 

She  was  no  "goop"  and  any  intimation  to  that 
effect  would  have  brought  about  a  vehement 
denial,  but  Rosi'='  retained  a  virtue  that  was 
respected  amon^  the  "bubas"  of  Kurland's. 
Rosie  knew  full  well  what  her  father  meant  when 
he  warned  her  of  the  danger  that  lay  in  going  to 
the  dance  unescorted,  for  she  had  seen  other  girls 
fall  victims  to  the  wiles  of  the  Ashland  avenue 
"goops"  and  knew  of  the  shame  and  disgrace  that 
followed  them  subsequent  to  their  fall. 

In  the  carriage  factory  and  the  cloth  room 
were  many  girls  of  the  streets,  the  cheap  theatres 
and  the  dance  halls  whose  fall  had  been  widely 
heralded  and  she  knew  that  these  unfortunates 
received  the  indissoluble  brand  "unclean." 

As  a  matter  of  self-preservation  Rosie  would 
have  kept  clear  of  all  entanglements  that  might 
lead  in  that  dreaded  direction  and  in  addition, 
Rosie  was  a  "good"  girl,  measured  by  the  stand- 
ards of  her  people.  She  had  her  ambitions ;  they 
included  marriage  to  Casimir,  a  home,  and — the 
Polish  nature  precludes  the  possibilities  of  race 
suicide  in  a  normal  household. 

Casimir  had  invited  Rosie  to  accompany  him  to 
the  dance  of  the  Free  Polish  Patriots  and  she 
had  accepted  the  "bid"  of  her  "steady"  with  the 
knowledge  that  Kijersky  would  probably  make 


138  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

the  occasion  the  chmax  to  his  courtship.  Rosie 
was  of  marriageable  age  now — she  was  nearly 
seventeen — and  Casimir  had  long  felt  a  desire  for 
household  cares  and  family  ties. 

The  dance  was  to  be  held  at  Kurland's,  and 
Rosie's  mother  beamed  when  the  "dzewczyna" 
told  of  the  hope  that  she  was  soon  to  have  a 
"dom"  (household)  of  her  own.  Although  the 
actual  word  had  not  been  spoken,  Rosie  knew  the 
heart  of  her  "buba"  and,  on  the  night  of  the 
dance,  she  wore  the  charmed  medallion  of  the 
Virgin  that  would  bring  the  blessing  of  heaven 
down  upon  her  romance. 

Casimir  was  a  member  of  the  Free  Polish 
Patriots  and  on  the  all  important  Saturday  eve- 
ning of  the  dance  he  appeared  at  the  door  of 
Rosie's  "dodom"  (home)  resplendent  in  a  new 
black  suit  and  stiffly  starched  shirt  bosom. 
Encouraged  artfully  by  Mrs.  Kopec,  he  comphed 
with  an  ancient  Polish  custom  and  made  known 
his  intention  of  bespeaking  the  radiant  Rosie. 
Father  and  mother  rose  to  the  occasion  and 
accepted  the  announcement  over  a  glass  of  beer, 
for  which  one  of  the  younger  Kopecs  had  just 
brought  in  a  supply. 

Rather  shyly,  the  young  man  produced  a  small 
box,  which,  opened,  revealed  the  ruby  ring  that 
was  to  seal  the  pledge  of  his  faithfulness.  The 
familj^  circle  gasped  in  awe,  for  South  Halsted 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  139 

street  had  produced  nothing  finer  for  any  of  the 
girls  of  the  neighborhood  and  their  Rosie  was  to 
outshine  all  in  the  quality  of  her  betrothal  gift. 
Then  Rosie  entered  with  a  happy:  "Jindabri," 
and  the  ring  was  hastily  put  away.  But  she  had 
seen  and  heard;  the  doors  even  may  be  made  to 
hear  when  one's  affairs  of  the  heart  are  the  topic 
of  conversation. 

Rosie  blushed  unwonted  red  and  the  mother 
bestowed  an  infrequent  kiss  as  they  left  for  the 
dance,  Casimir  smiling  gravely  down  into  the 
laughing  eyes  of  his  "dzewczyna."  Rosie  was 
dressed  all  in  red,  and  her  dark  hair  contrasted 
becomingly  with  the  vivid  frock  and  pink  slippers 
— she  was  alone  in  her  glory  among  the  other 
girls  as  regarded  the  slippers. 

Casimir  appeared  ill  at  ease,  but  Rosie  knew 
that  the  word  would  not  be  spoken  until  the  dance 
was  over.  Conventions  may  differ,  but  all  soci- 
ety, regardless  of  caste  or  class,  has  its  uniformity 
of  usages  and  even  West  26th  street  must  be 
given  its  place  in  the  social  scheme  of  things. 

Casimir  intended  to  speak  his  mind  before  the 
evening  had  ended  and  custom  had  it,  that  the 
most  favorable  opportunity  presented  when  the 
time  for  leave-taking  arrived.. 

Casimir  danced  but  little.  The  square  Polish 
figure  of  a  staid,  old  country  character  were  his 
best;  with  the  others,  the  bewildering  "double 


140  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

step"  and  "slowish  valitz,"  he  had  httle  concern 
or  liking.  On  the  other  hand  Rosie  was  a  dancer 
of  note  in  the  society  of  Kurland's.  The  two  and 
three-steps  offered  great  opportunity  for  rapid 
motion  and,  what  might  have  seemed  romantic 
flirtations  with  the  "gentlemen"  of  26th  street,  or 
Ashland  avenue. 

In  the  waltz  she  found  but  small  outlet  for  her 
surplus  energy.  Small,  well  developed  Rosie 
was  not  fashioned  on  the  "dreamy  waltz"  pattern. 
She  was  short — slightly  over  five  feet  three — but 
compactly  built  with  a  maturity  of  figure  rare 
even  among  the  best  of  her  race.  In  the  dance 
she  delighted  in  swinging  close  to  her  partner, 
inviting  him  to  bring  the  step  into  rather  close 
proximity.  Rosie's  style  of  dancing  was  danger- 
ous, though  the  accepted  thing  at  Kurland's  hall. 
The  "day-light"  dances,  permitting  of  at  least 
some  separation  of  the  partners  while  encoupled, 
were  not  popular  among  the  clientele  of 
Kurland's. 

Primarily  and  essentially,  the  hall  was  oper- 
ated as  an  adjunct,  and  an  important  one,  to  the 
sale  of  liquor  in  Kurland's  saloon.  To  the  young 
men  of  the  neighborhood,  its  advantages  as 
regarded  the  dance  technical,  were  of  secondary 
importance.  The  real  purpose  of  Kurland's,  as 
well  as  of  practically  all  dance  halls,  was  to  pro- 
vide  a   meeting   place   for   the   aforementioned 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  141 

beauty  and  chivalry  of  West  26th  street  and  that 
territory  contiguous  to  the  neighborhood  it 
served. 

If,  in  the  meeting,  these  modern  day  repre- 
sentatives of  the  knight  errantry  courted  their 
ladies  fair  in  a  manner  productive  of  more  than 
romance,  that  was  no  concern  of  Kurland's.  If, 
in  the  course  of  the  dance,  these  self-same  knights 
of  the  "dip"  and  "bear-cat"  accomplished  their 
purpose  of  intimate  association  with  the  opposite 
sex,  in  an  intensely  jDhysical  manner,  that,  too,  lay 
entirely  outside  the  province  of  those  controlling 
spirits  who  guided  the  policy  of  Kurland's  hall. 
"Rounders,"  they  would  tell  you,  appeared  at 
every  dance,  and  if  the  patrons  wanted  to 
"round,"  "dip,"  "rock"  or  "hug"  after  a  manner 
suggestive  of  something  beside  the  movement  of 
a  grizzly  bear,  why,  let  'em;  Kurland's  claimed 
no  recognition  as  a  "Sunday  school"  or  "Rescue 
mission." 

And  so  "bear-cat,"  "grizzly,"  rockin'  horse," 
"dip,"  "crab"  and  plain  "round"  pursued  the 
untroubled  course  provided  for  them,  and  the 
Rosies,  Sadies,  Annies  and  Marys,  who  consti- 
tuted the  objective  case,  as  regarded  the  presence 
of  the  men,  scorned  the  "day-light"  dance  and 
"got  together"  at  pleasure. 

For  Rosie,  these  aberrations  of  the  dance  came 
naturally  and  without  a  thought  as  to  the  reasons 


142  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

for  their  being  and  the  purpose  they  served.  She 
might  have  known  that  the  "bear"  has  as  its  casus 
incipiendi  something  more  subtle  than  a  natural 
desire  for  association  with  the  opposite  sex  or  the 
attractive  law  of  opposites,  but  she  had  received 
her  instruction  in  the  Terpischorean  art  at  Kur- 
land's  hall  and  the  dances  of  Kurland's  were 
hers. 

Casimir,  standing  at  one  side  of  the  hall,  might 
gaze  with  some  degree  of  disapproval  as  his 
"dzewczyna"  "dipped"  past,  in  the  closest 
embrace  of  her  partner  that  physical  intimacy 
might  attain,  but  then,  Casimir  did  not  under- 
stand the  dance,  anyhow,  and  his  viewpoint 
probably  would  be  prejudiced. 

The  dance  had  begun  and  Rosie  had  started  on 
this,  of  all,  evening's  round  of  enjoyment  with 
the  knowledge  that  Casimir  and  his  unspoken 
word  waited.  Her  face  was  flushed  and  she 
sang  joyously,  airs  the  "orchestra"  played  in 
accompaniment.  Around  about  the  hall  she 
"dipped,"  "rocked"  and  "rolled,"  flashing  by 
Casimir  with  a  bright  smile  and  a  thrilling  look. 

Her  partners  wondered  at  the  remarkable 
buoyancy  that  carried  this  little  "dzewczyna" 
through  the  strenuous  dances  of  Kurland's.  The 
other  girls  whispered  among  themselves  and  to 
their  partners,  that  "Rosie  looks  jist  as  if  she 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  143 

might  would  be  drunk,"  but  the  partners  scouted 
the  theory.    They  knew  Rosie. 

''Nail"  they  said  decisively.  "Hops,  is  it  for 
Rosie,  not'ting  else  yet  the  old  man  gets  sore  and 
wallops  her  for  it."  Some  of  the  comments  car- 
ried with  them  the  authority  of  experience,  for 
many  "bubas"  of  doubtful  morals  had  "gone 
after"  Rosie,  and  without  result.  In  the  intermis- 
sions, however,  several  attempted  to  induce  the 
factory  girl  to  join  them  in  a  "real  drink."  Rosie 
refused  and  stuck  to  her  "hops"  with  a  degree  of 
resolution  that  augured  well  for  the  future  of 
herself  and  Casimir.  At  Kurland's  the  dances 
were  short  and  the  intermissions  long.  The  rea- 
son was  apparent  to  any  who  cared  to  seek  it. 
Dances  of  just  enough  length  to  insure  warmth 
at  the  close,  a  warm,  even  stuffy,  hall,  and  a  good 
supply  of  cooling  liquid,  make  for  a  considerable 
consmiiption  of  the  latter,  and,  automatically, 
the  intermissions  extend  themselves  so  as  to 
provide  ample  opportunity  for  this  last. 

Five  minutes  of  dancing  to  fifteen  of  "refresh- 
ment" was  the  rule,  and  the  bar  prospered  accord- 
ingly. The  latter  was  in  direct  connection  with 
the  da*  «ce  floor  and  no  time  was  lost  ascending  or 
descend(?)g  stairs.  It  was  a  peculiar  fact  that 
Kurlaiid's  ha}\  was  always  hot  and  stuffy.  Any- 
thing cool  wjis  bottled  and  sold  and  results  made 
it  a  profit-pa  y  ing  institution. 


144  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Unused  windows,  it  was  noticeable  at  timeSj 
were  boarded  up  tightly,  on  the  apparent  theory, 
that  the  circulation  of  cool  air  was  not  conducive 
to  the  circulation  of  Kurland's  drinks,  and,  in 
consequence,  the  dancers'  money. 

The  crowd  at  the  Free  Polish  Patriots'  dance 
was  a  mixed  gathering  and  departed  slightly 
from  the  usual  community  character  of  the 
weekly  "shindigs"  at  West  25th  place  and  South 
Sacramento  avenue.  In  the  crowd,  many  unfa- 
miliar faces  were  noticeable;  Bohemians  from 
Lawndale,  a  few  Italians  and  Greeks  from  Blue 
Island  avenue  and  a  scattering  representation  of 
Germans  from  the  north  side.  Some  were  there 
"plugging"  dances  in  their  own  particular  neigh- 
borhoods, others  in  reciprocation  of  past  favors  at 
the  hands  of  the  Free  Patriots  and  some  few  of 
that  floating  delegation  known  only  as  the 
"rounders." 

Under  the  latter  classification  one  George 
Kowalski  might  have  been  placed  had  anyone 
deemed  it  necessary.  Kowalski  was  a  Polish 
"buba"  of  that  variety  known  as  "sporty."  He 
was  not  of  the  26th  street  social  sphere,  nor  yet 
was  he  unknown  to  the  "regulars"  of  Kurland's 
hall. 

An  Americanized  Polander,  Kowalski  was,  by 
reason  of  his  sporting  proclivities,  surnamed 
"the  bear."     Where  he  lived  was  unknov/n  to 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  145 

the  others;  the  "rounder"  has  no  definite  sphere 
of  activity — ^he  follows  his  inclinations  and  the 
elements  most  satisfying  to  them.  "The  bear," 
appeared  from  time  to  time  at  Kurland's, 
garbed  as  befitted  his  sobriquet,  and  always  with 
some  novelty  of  manner  or  speech  that  impressed. 

He  was  a  stout,  medium  built  young  man  of 
sophisticated  appearance  with  an  affectation  of 
the  racy  "chatter"  of  the  sports  and  the  sporting 
life.  His  clothes  were  always  conspicuous  and 
ostensibly  new,  and  his  taste  in  the  matter  of 
sartorial  equipment  was  catholic  to  an  astonish- 
ing degree.  But  Kowalski's  eyes  were  what  puz- 
zled. Small,  beady,  deep-set  eyes  they  were, 
gleaming  out  from  under  a  brow  that  sloped 
irregularly  down  from  his  bushy  pampadour  of 
brush-like  black.  The  forehead  bulged,  pecu- 
liarly, above  the  eyes  and,  with  a  heavy  back- 
shot  jaw,  gave  a  pugnacious  appearance  to  the 
rest  of  his  face. 

Kowalski  also  possessed  a  pugilistic  "tin  ear" 
of  astonishing  proportions.  He  had  been  a  pre- 
liminary fighter  of  mediocre  ability  and  the  dis- 
figured ear,  which  bore  close  resemblance  to  the 
cauliflower,  had  come  as  the  result  of  a  slashing 
training  bout  with  a  well  known  "scrapper." 

Among  the  other  fellows,  "Knockout  George," 
as  he  was  called,  was  something  of  a  personage 
by  virtue  of  his  ability  to  handle  his  "dooks." 


146  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

At  the  dances,  Kowalski  swaggered  about  with 
an  air  of  supreme  faith  in  himself,  in  his  power 
of  attracting  the  opposite  sex,  and  in  the  strength 
of  his  good  right  arm.  His  visits  to  Kurland's 
usually  transpired  at  intervals  of  several  months 
and  "the  Bear'*  always  found  friendly  welcome 
among  the  "dzewczynas"  of  26th  street  and  the 
carriage  factory,  for  who,  among  the  others, 
could  equal  him  in  splendor  of  attire  or  in  that 
proficiency  of  movement  that  overshadowed  the 
other  mere  "rounders"? 

At  the  Polish  Patriots'  dance  Kowalski  occu- 
pied the  position  of  a  doubtful  celebrity.  It  had 
been  rumored  in  connection  with  the  latest  fall 
from  grace  among  the  girls  of  the  carriage  fac- 
tory that  "the  Bear"  had  supplied  the  inevitable 
motive.  The  unfortunate  had  threatened  to  shoot 
herself  in  the  event  that  he  "threw  her  down." 
The  girl,  a  meager  little  figure  of  the  lower  Pol- 
ish type,  was  present  at  the  dance,  a  forlorn 
Magdalen,  bitterly  aware  of  her  sin  and  forced 
into  a  recognition  of  its  consequences.  Sophie 
Kalricek  had  lost  caste  even  among  the  loosely- 
conventioned  habitues  of  Kurland's.  She  had 
drunk  a  httle  too  much  of  the  strong,  raw 
whiskey  that  was  to  be  had  in  the  hall,  the  inev- 
itable aftermath  occurred,  and — perforce  Sophie 
was  a  "broad,"  a  "Tommy '  and  a  probable 
"street-walker"  of  the  future. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  147 

The  men  regarded  her  with  significant  grins 
and  the  girls,  among  themselves,  decided  that  she 
was  "terrible  tough."  Already  she  had  made 
several  "dates"  with  the  "bubas"  who  followed 
"the  Bear"  and  many  things  were  whispered 
around  in  connection  with  their  result.  Rosie,  in 
the  happiness  of  her  own  romance,  that  was  to 
be,  smiled  sympathetically  at  the  lonesome  figure 
on  one  side  of  the  hall.  The  girl  seemed  to  wait 
for  somebody  or  something  and  the  men  pointed 
to  her  with  loud  laughs,  and  guessed  that 
"Knockout  George  must  had  got  her  number  fer 
fair,  huh?" 

Their  conjecture  was  answered  by  the  appear- 
ance of  that  gentleman  shortly  after  the  dance 
opened.  As  he  entered  the  hall  he  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  group  of  girls  who  called  him  "Mr." 
Kowalski  and  proffered  their  dance  cards.  Over 
and  above  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  "the  Bear" 
smiled  affably  and  with  a  patronizing  air  that 
included  even  the  forlorn  figure  on  the  edge. 

"How's  all  the  bearcats?"  was  the  debonair 
greeting  he  extended  to  those  within  earshot. 
The  girls  laughed  at  the  witticism,  understood,  if 
not  phrased  exactly,  and  the  "fellows"  invited  the 
new  lion  to  have  a  drink.  At  the  moment  Rosie 
walked  past  with  her  Casimir  and  the  vivid  red 
seemed  to  fill  Kowalski's  eye  for  the  moment. 

"Who's  the  new  piece?"  he  inquired  of  John 


148  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

Pintrowski  as  the  preliminary  drink  of  the  eve- 
ning was  being  served.  "The  Bear"  exhibited  a 
roll  of  bills  calculated  to  impress  all  within  range 
of  the  eye.  Even  the  bartender  added  a  respect- 
ful "sir"  to  his  inquiries.  Pintrowski  glanced 
from  Rosie  to  the  man  in  the  olive  green  suit  at 
his  side  and  smiled. 

"Don't  you  know  Rosie  Kopec?  She  works 
by  the  carriage  factory  on  26th  street,  but  she's 
notting  good  for  you,  Kowalski.  She  don't  has 
stood  for  the  monkeying  around."  And  John 
quaffed  his  beer  stolidly.  "The  Bear"  set  down 
his  glass  and  pushed  forward  his  jaw  in  a  smile 
that  was  accompanied  by  a  crafty  wink.  Again 
he  produced  the  roll  of  bills  and  laid  it  on  the  bar. 

"Whatcha  giving  us,  bojack?"  he  queried 
derisively.  "Lamp  that  wad  and  den  show  me 
the  cat  in  the  hall  that  won't  fall  for  it  and  my 
line  of  chatter.  I  could  get  that  piece  as  easy  as 
I  ever  got  anything  and  I'll  lay  you  any  part  of 
the  heel-clamp  dat  I  can  pick  her  right  off  that 
'moutang'  she's  trailing  with.    Who's  he?" 

"Him?  Oh  dat  been  Casimir  Kijersky,  her 
fellow,"  answered  Pintrowski,  rather  maliciously, 
for  in  the  colloquy  of  Kurland's,  Casimir  had 
"beat  his  time."  John  had  an  abiding  faith  in 
"the  Bear"  and  he  rather  longed  to  see  that  squire 
of  dames  encompass  the  humiliation  of  slow- 
going  Casimir. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  149 

"Well,  d'ye  want  to  see  me  cop  it  off  and  scalp 
it  clean?"  demanded  Ivowalski,  banging  his  fist 
down  on  the  bar.  John,  smiling  craftily,  nodded 
an  assent  and  "Knockout  George"  ordered 
another  drink. 

"Then  it's  me  for  the  headlight  and  watch  me 
nail  it  to  the  cross,"  he  concluded. 

"Kijei^sky,  he  might  get  sore,"  ventured  John. 
The  other  shot  his  jaw  under  menacingly  and 
raised  a  large,  red  hand. 

"Well,  if  he  starts  anj^thing  I'll  finish  it  and 
I'll  finish  him,"  he  declared,  witli  an  ominous 
expansion  of  the  biceps. 

The  next  dance  was  secured  by  Kowalski  with 
Rosie  through  the  simple  process  of  (first) 
demanding  and  then  claiming  it.  Another 
"buba's"  name  was  down  on  the  program  for  the 
nimiber,  but  "the  Bear"  overcame  that  difficulty 
by  writing  his  own  over  it.  Before  the  dance 
began  it  was  found  necessary  to  "bull"  the  other 
man  into  relinquishing  his  claim.  This  was  done 
after  that  man  was  assured  by  friends  that 
"Knockout  George"  would  "get"  him  after  the 
dance  if  he  refused. 

The  dance  number  was  a  two-step  and  Kowal- 
ski soon  transformed  it  into  a  rushing  improve- 
ment on  the  "grizzly  bear."  To  his  surprise, 
Rosie  swung  into  the  step  with  a  familiarity  that 
caused  him  to  think  that  he  had  been  "bulled" 


150  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

into  "picking  up"  an  old  one  and  a  "rounder"  of 
the  post  graduate  school.  He  was  soon  unde- 
ceived. Following  up  his  discovery,  "the  Bear" 
attempted  a  few  of  the  leading  hberties  the  dance 
stands  sponsor  for.  Rosie  was  not  surprised, 
neither  did  she  object.  All  the  "rounders"  did 
the  same  and  it  was  a  part  of  the  coquettish  sys- 
tem to  not  only  pass  over  such  actions  on  the  part 
of  the  male  partner,  but  to  "show  the  guy  a  few" 
in  return — ^which  Rosie  set  about  doing. 

Passing  close  to  Sophie  Karlicek,  she  was 
crushed  close  against  the  stocky  figure  of  "the 
Bear."  His  arm  was  about  her  waist  and  in  the 
press  of  the  dance  he  often  lifted  his  partner  clear 
of  the  floor,  the  other  hand  resting  on  Rosie's  hip 
— often  it  did  not  rest.  The  little  Polish  girl 
returned  the  pressure  with  interest,  and  on  the 
reverse  step,  rested  her  weight  in  a  reclining  posi- 
tion on  the  other's  burly  front. 

The  forlorn  little  Magdalen  who  had  threat- 
ened to  shoot  herself  if  "the  Bear"  "threw  her 
down,"  watched  the  pair  as  they  glided  about  the 
hall,  and  there  was  a  hopeless  expression  on  her 
face  as  Kowalski  passed  without  a  sign  of  rec- 
ognition. The  dance  was  being  run  in  regulation 
style  with  the  exception  that  no  unnecessary  floor 
committee  hampered  or  censored  the  dancers  in 
their  varied  movements. 

Several  hundred  girls  were  present,  the  major- 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  151 

ity  being  "staggers,"  unescorted  girls  whose  pur- 
pose was  to  dance,  drink  and  mingle  with  the 
masculine  contingent  at  the  expense  of  the  latter. 
The  first  dance  ended  and  the  crowd  streamed 
toward  the  bar.  The  stream  was  undivided  and 
flowed  for,  and  towards  the  liquor  that  made 
for  the  estabhshment  of  Kurland's  as  a  "social 
center." 

At  a  table  Rosie  might  have  been  found  with 
Kowalski.  Her  vivid  red  dress  and  pink  slippers 
contrasted  typically  with  the  olive  green  suit  and 
lavender  necktie  of  "the  Bear."  His  smile  was 
wide  and  genial,  his  talk  rapid  and  slangy  and  a 
large  diamond  in  his  scarf  pin  startling  in  its 
iridescence.  Rosie  gazed  at  him  smilingly  and 
with  a  considerable  degree  of  favor,  for,  as  has 
been  said,  Kowalski  invariably  impressed. 

" What'll  it  be  ?'  asked  the  waiter.  "The  Bear" 
raised  three  fingers  and  said,  impressively: 

"The  best  in  the  shop  for  two."  Rosie  started 
forward,  for  she  saw  Casimir  at  the  opposite 
entrance. 

"Make  mine  a  beer,  Mr.  Kowalski,"  she  said. 
"I  can't  go  the  varnish." 

The  other  smiled  indulgently,  looked  her  over 
a  moment  with  an  air  of  suggestion  that  almost 
influenced  Rosie  to  change  the  order,  and  then 
said  dryly :    "Make  it  a  beer  for  the  kid." 

Rosie  flushed  in  what  might  have  been  embar- 


152  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

rassment.  Up  to  this,  the  partner  had  referred 
to  her  flatteringly  as  "Miss"  Kopec  and  the  loss 
of  her  dignity  because  of  a  drink,  influenced  her 
more  than  persuasion  could  have  done.  Herein 
lay  the  secret  of  "Knockout  George's"  success  as 
a  "rounder"  of  ability  in  "picking  them  up."  As 
he  explained  himself:  "I  always  make  'em  feel 
they've  got  to  be  good  sports  to  stay  in  my  class," 
he  said  and  the  "system"  seemed  infallible. 

Rosie  drank  her  beer  before  the  amused  and 
slightly  bored  glance  of  her  partner.  She  was 
conscious  of  the  tolerant  attitude  he  had  adopted, 
but  she  drank  the  beer  in  silence  and  thought  of 
some  means  wliereby  his  "respect"  for  her  could 
be  regained. 

As  an  immediate  consequence  the  next  dance 
proved  a  veritable  riot  in  which  the  "bear"  and 
the  "dip"  elements  vied  with  each  other  in  pro- 
ducing an  effect  that  caused  Casimir  to  gaze  with 
inci'eased  disapprobation  in  her  direction.  The 
number  closed  with  a  "dip"  that  found  Rosie's 
back  almost  touching  the  floor  and  "the  Bear" 
bent  over  her  in  a  manner  that  warned  of 
impending  danger.  Casimir  had  left  the  hall  for 
a  moment  and  he  did  not  witness  the  finale  to 
that  number. 

In  the  "refreshment"  room  the  intermission 
previous  was  repeated  as  to  incident,  except  that 
Kawalski  added  a  mild  statement  that  "this  stuff 


TO  WHITE  SLAVEKY  153 

won't  kill  you,  kid,  and  we're  all  out  for  a  good 
time,  hull?"  Rosie  deliberated  uncertainly,  but 
in  the  end  stuck  to  her  dark  Bavarian  beer, 
although  seconding  the  other's  statement  that 
she  was  "out  for  a  good  time  and  didn't  care." 
"The  Bear"  smiled  with  the  cynical  egotism  of 
his  class.  He  could  see  clearly  enough  to  suit  his 
ends,  that  the  girl  was  weakening  in  her  strength 
of  purpose.  Suggestion  and  innuendo  is  more 
powerful  than  any  amount  of  argument  or  in- 
sistence. The  dance  had  got  well  under  way 
and  in  consequence,  the  sale  of  liquid  refresh- 
ment had  reached  a  normal  level.  Beer  was  the 
favorite  beverage  among  the  girls  present  for 
the  probable  reason  of  quantity. 

Practically  the  entire  dance  floor  cleared  dur- 
ing the  intermissions,  and  all  drank,  if  they 
danced,  at  some  time  durmg  the  evening.  At  a 
table  immediatelj^  adjoming  the  one  at  which  sat 
Rosie  and  "the  Bear,"  appeared  the  gravely  dis- 
approving face  of  Casimir  Kijersky,  and  beside 
him,  a  forlorn  figure  that  watched  every  action 
on  the  part  of  the  man  in  the  ohve  green  suit. 
Casimir's  face  was  clouded  and  he  watched  Rosie 
anxiously,  as  he  drank  with  the  girl  who  had 
fallen  by  the  wayside. 

He  had  not  danced  with  her — Sophie  did  not 
dance  that  evening.  At  the  conclusion  of  the 
previous   dance   she  had  approached  liim  in   a 


154  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

peculiar  manner,  entirely  foreign  from  the  usual 
style  of  advance  among  the  known  "broads." 

"Is  llosie  your  girl?"  she  asked  in  an  utterly 
detached  manner.  Casimir  started  slightly  and 
replied  in  a  hesitating  affirmative. 

"Well,  do  you  see  what  she's  doing?"  said  the 
other,  her  eyes  following  the  "dipping"  couple 
on  the  dance  floor.  "Don't  you  see  what  Kowal- 
ski  is  doing  with  her?  That's  the  w^ay  he  got  me 
started  and  he  got  me  dead  to  rights,"  the  meager 
figure  continued.  "Watch  his  hands  and  watch 
his  knee  when  they  go  around  the  corner.  That 
fellow  is  after  your  girl  and  he'll  get  her — ^why^ 
it's  easy;  he'll  get  her,"  she  finished.  Casimir 
lost  some  of  his  gravity  and  he  started  forward 
anxiously. 

"Wait  until  tliis  dance  is  over  and  then  watch 
them  in  the  barroom,"  said  the  girl,  noticing  his 
expression.  She  spoke  in  a  laconic  manner  that 
seemed  helpless  to  a  degree  far  beyond  the 
character  of  the  situation. 

Silently,  Casimir  assented,  and  in  the  intermis- 
sion that  followed,  they  found  a  table  directly 
behind  that  occupied  by  Rosie  and  Kowalski. 

Once,  in  the  course  of  the  conversation,  the  girl 
in  vivid  red  turned  and  encountered  the  slow 
gaze  of  her  "buba."  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  her 
face  in  apparent  question  and  she  experienced  a 
feeling  of  what  might  have  corresponded  to  jeal- 
ousy had  Casimir's  companion  been  any  one  bu* 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  155 

Sophie  Karlicek,  the  "chippie,"  the  "Tommy'* 
and  the  embryonic  "street- walker." 

Kowalski  noticed  the  expression  on  his  com- 
panion's face  and  turned  also  to  encounter  the 
unnaturally  intense  gaze  of  the  forlorn  little 
Magdalen  he  had  "started."  His  glance  quickly 
shifted  to  meet  Kijersky's  and  there  was  open 
hostility  in  the  looks  exchanged  by  the  men. 
Rosie  noticed  that  Casimir  was  drinking,  but  not 
the  usual  draught  of  beer.  A  small  whiskey  glass 
was  before  him  and  a  slight  flush  on  his  rather 
dark  face  told  of  several  others  disposed  of.  The 
girl  also  was  drinking  a  "real"  drink. 

"Who's  that  cheap  moutang?"  asked  "Knock- 
out George"  of  his  companion,  in  a  loud  tone  of 
voice.  Rosie  looked  back  at  him  indignantly  and 
thought  of  the  small  ruby  ring  that  was  to  come 
when  the  time  for  leavetaking  had  arrived.  She 
was  about  to  answer  as  befitted  her  inclination 
when  Casimir  deliberately  turned  his  back  in  her 
direction  and  called  loudly  for  more  "booze." 
Her  jealousy  flamed  up  and  she  laughed  with 
"the  Bear." 

"Him?"  she  said  in  a  tone  that  matched 
Kowalsky's,  "oh,  that's  a  guy  by  the  name  of 
Kijersky  who  lives  by  26th  street.    Why?" 

"Oh,  he  looks  like  a  pretty  wise  piker,"  said  the 
other,  sneeringly,  in  a  tone  that  could  be  heard  by 
all  within  several  tables.  A  suppressed  laugh 
went  up  among  the  other  drinkers  and  one  girl. 


156  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

slightly  intoxicated,  waved  a  giddy  hand  at  "the 
Bear"  and  shouted;  "Oh,  you  little  bear-dog, 
Georgie." 

Rosie  noticed  that  Casimir's  hands  grasped  the 
side  of  the  table  tightly  and  he  seemed  about  to 
"start  something."  But  nothing  happened  and 
"Knockout  George"  smiled  derisively  as  they 
passed  the  table  on  the  way  to  the  dance  floor. 
Kowalsky  had  monopolized  Bosie  and  she  was 
the  envy  of  all  the  other  girls,  who  accused  her 
of  "hogging  it."  The  succeeding  number  was 
danced  with  "the  Bear"  and  the  inevitable  inter- 
mission found  tliem  back  in  the  barroom,  where 
Casimir  still  sat,  at  the  table  opposite  Sopliie 
Karlicek. 

Kijersky's  back  was  turned  and  he  did  not 
move  as  Rosie  and  her  partner  passed.  The  little 
"dzewczyna"  who  was  to  receive  the  ruby  ring 
that  would  plight  her  troth  to  Casimir,  knew 
Kowalsky  would  order  as  before:  "two  fingers 
and  the  best  in  the  house."  She  glanced  again  in 
the  direction  of  Kijersky  as  the  order  was  given, 
but  his  shoulders  were  stiffly  hunched  and  he 
spoke  in  an  excited  undertone  with  the  lifeless 
figure  across  the  table.  A  sudden  fierce  anger 
against  Sophie  Karlicek  rose  up  in  her  red  clad 
bosom.  Instead  of  the  usual  objection  and  the 
substitution  of  beer  for  the  original  order,  she 
smiled  at  Kowalsky  and  said: 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  157 

"I'm  with  yuh."  And  "the  Bear"  laughed 
triumphantly. 

The  drinks  were  brought  and  as  Rosie  raised 
the  glass  Casimir  turned.  The  glass  was  halted 
midway  to  her  lips  and  she  looked  uncertainly  in 
his  eyes.  Kijersky's  face  went  pale  suddenly 
and  his  heavy  lips  tightened. 

Rosie  started  to  put  the  glass  back  on  the  table, 
but  he  turned  his  back  to  her,  fully,  as  before. 
She  glanced  across  at  Kowalsky  and  caught  the 
sneering  smile  on  his  face.  The  girl  at  the  other 
table  stared  at  her  as  if  she  was  about  to  do 
something.  Rosie  glanced  at  the  back  of  her 
"buba"  and  a  moment  later  the  "two  fingers"  dis- 
appeared. The  smile  on  "Knockout  George's" 
face  was  illuminating,  but  Rosie  was  watching 
the  couple  at  the  other  table.  The  girl  leaned 
forward  and  whispered  something  to  Ivijersky. 
Rosie  caught  the  last  word — "gone" — and  she 
smiled.  Then  Casimir  said  something  audible 
and  she  listened  to  catch  the  words  above  the 
clatter  of  the  room. 

"Oh,  let  her,"  said  the  man  who  carried  the 
ruby  ring  that  was  to  be  hers.  Rosie  started,  but 
smiled  at  her  companion.  Then  another  drink 
was  ordered. 

The  crowd  had  increased  greatly  and  the  bar- 
room was  crowded.  It  was  after  12  o'clock  and 
the  effects  of  the  long  intermissions  were  begin- 
ning to  show  in  places.    At  one  table  a  girl  began 


158  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

a  skirt  dance  on  the  surface  of  the  table  itself, 
and  the  men  who  drank  with  her  were  provided 
an  opportunity  for  liberties  of  a  nature  that 
made  Rosie's  "grizzly  bear"  dance  seem  tame  and 
edifying  in  comparison.  Many  of  the  girls  had 
drunk  far  beyond  their  capacity  and  the  usual 
scenes  that  were  typical  of  Kurland's  held  the 
center  of  the  stage. 

Several  more  dances  had  been  run  off  when 
it  became  apparent  that  the  mixed  element  was 
in  control.  Rosie  danced  with  none  but  "the 
Bear"  and  always,  during  the  intermissions,  they 
found  Casimir  and  the  forlorn  little  Magdalen  at 
the  same  table.  Kijersky's  face  was  flushed  and 
his  eyes  gleamed  unnaturally  over  the  many 
drinks. 

Rosie's  face  was  beginning  to  flush  also  and  she 
walked  a  bit  unsteadily  as  they  entered,  during 
the  last  intermission  before  the  bar  closed.  They 
sat  down  at  the  table  and  Kowalsky  ordered 
highballs. 

Rosie's  cheeks  had  become  fiery  red,  contrast- 
ing strangely  with  the  dress  she  wore.  Her  part- 
ner smiled  as  he  watched  her  closely,  with  the 
calculating  eye  of  one  who  had  his  game  quarried. 
He  did  not  seem  at  all  affected  by  the  numerous 
drinks  he  absorbed.  The  announcement  that  the 
bar  would  close  within  fifteen  minutes  precipi- 
tated a  riot  among  the  dancers  in  the  refreshment 
room. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  159 

A  majority  of  the  men  present  began  to  give 
evidence  of  the  drinks  taken  and  the  Free  Pohsh 
Patriots'  dance  threatened  to  break  out  into  an 
orgy  of  a  more  serious  character  than  even  Kur- 
land's  hall  was  accustomed  to.  One  girl  was 
quarreling  with  a  man  she  had  "dated"  in  the 
center  of  the  room.  Both  were  "piped  to  the 
guards"  and  the  controversy  was  finally  settled 
when  the  man  forced  his  companion  back  on  the 
table  and  threatened  to  "get"  her  "then  and 
there." 

Several  other  "rounders"  were  forcing  drinks 
on  their  already  overloaded  companions  and  all 
seemed  bent  on  attaining  a  beatific  state  of 
intoxication.  "The  Bear"  leaned  across  the  table 
and  grasped  Rosie  familiarly.  She  smiled  at  him 
in  return. 

"Where  to,  after  the  dance?"  he  asked  with  a 
wink  and  a  grimace.    Rosie  looked  at  him  hazily. 

Then  the  girl  in  red  stared  across  at  the  half 
recumbent  figure  of  Casimir  Kijersky,  sprawled 
across  the  other  table.  He  gave  no  sign  that  he 
recognized  her  presence  and  she  turned  to  Kowal- 
sky.  His  hand  was  still  on  her  shoulder,  but 
she  did  not  resent  the  liberty. 

"What  dy'e  say,  kid?"  he  asked  ^gi.rn.  "Shall 
we  go  down  town  for  a  while  after  the  hop  is 
over?"  She  wavered  uncertainly  a  moment,  for 
habit  is  strong  even  when  opposed  to  the  deadly 
haze  of  whiskey  highballs. 


160  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"The  Bear"  smiled  soothingly  and  put  his  arm 
about  the  red  clad  figure.  She  smiled  into  his 
eyes  as  he  "loved  her  up"  after  the  manner  of  his 
kind. 

"Sure,  if  you  say  so,"  was  the  final  answer 
and  the  bar  closed  in  a  riot  of  indecency  amidst 
which  could  be  seen  "Knockout"  George  smil- 
ing triumphantl}'',  with  a  red  clad  figure  on  his 
knee,  squirming  for  some  reason  or  other. 

One  o'clock  and  the  bar  closed  at  Kurland's 
— a  sign  that  the  minutes  of  the  dance  are  num- 
bered. "Dated"  couples  donned  their  wraps  and 
left  amidst  a  babble  of  profanity  and  vulgarism. 
But  Casimir  and  Sophie  Karlicek  still  sat  at  the 
table.  Kowalsky  held  a  whispered  conversation 
with  the  transformed  Rosie  that  sat  on  his  knee, 
and  they  rose  to  go. 

As  the  doorway  was  reached,  a  hand  descend- 
ed on  "Knockout  George's"  shoulder  and  he 
turned  to  face  the  flushed  countenance  and  up- 
raised arm  of  Kijersky. 

"Well,  what  do  you  want,  red-eye?"  asked 
"the  Bear,"  instinctively  shifting  his  position 
and  letting  go  of  Rosie's  arm. 

"Where  yuh  going  with  my  girl?"  said  the 
other,  doggedly  and  with  a  gleam  of  black  Pol- 
ish hatred  in  his  eye. 

"None  of  your  business,"  said  the  man  in 
green,  bluntly  and  profanely.  Casimir  lunged 
at  him,  but  Kowalsky  was  steady  on  his  feet, 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  161 

and  he  met  the  larger  man  with  a  hard-driven 
punch  that  carried  him  to  the  floor  with  a  bleed- 
ing mouth. 

He  rose  unsteadily  only  to  fall  again  and 
again  until  Sophie  Karlicek  stepped  in  between 
and  said: 

"That's  enough,  George."  The  other  struck 
at  her  brutally  and  cursed.  The  girl  looked  him 
full  in  the  face  and  said: 

"Why  didn't  you  do  that  the  night  you 
brought  me  downtown?"  Then  "the  Bear" 
struck  her,  but  with  his  open  hand,  following  it 
up  by  jolting  her  into  a  chair  and  standing  over 
with  low-toned  curses. 

"If  you  ever  butt  in  again  I'll  break  your 
back,"  he  said  and  his  backshot  jaw  quivered 
with  rage.  Rosie  stood  and  listened  and  as  Casi- 
mir  fell,  a  haze  came  over  her  eyes.  Her  com- 
panion returned  and  a  moment  later  they  left  the 
hall. 

At  a  corner  table  Casimir  Kijersky  sat 
sprawled  across  from  the  pale  faced  Magdalen. 
His  lips  were  cut  and  bleeding  and  a  great  swell- 
ing had  appeared  under  his  left  eye. 

There  was  blood  on  his  face  and  forehead  and 
a  small  stream  trickled  from  his  nose.  The  last 
of  the  dancers  present  at  the  affair  given  by  the 
Free  Polish  Patriots  were  leaving  Kurland's  and 
the  bartender  warned  him  that  it  was  "no  lodg- 
ing house."     Casimir  arose  and  started  for  the 


162  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

door  without  a  word  for  the  meager  figure  that 
watched  him  so  closely. 

Half  a  dozen  steps  away,  he  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  bar.  The  bartender  was  clean- 
ing up  preparatory  to  leaving.  Kijersky's  hand 
fumbled  at  the  pocket  of  his  new  black  suit  and 
he  pushed  his  hat  back  farther  on  his  head. 

"How  much  for  this,"  he  said,  and  the  bar- 
tender glanced  at  a  small  box  that  rattled  on 
the  bar.  He  opened  it  and  a  small  ruby  ring 
was  revealed.  He  glanced  at  it  closely,  replaced 
it  in  the  box  and  said: 

"Three  dollars." 

Kijersky  closed  the  box  without  a  word  and 
turned  away.  Again  he  started  for  the  door, 
uncertainly  but,  as  if  struck  with  an  after- 
thought, retraced  his  steps  to  the  table  where 
Sophie  Karlicek  still  sat.  Again  the  box  rattled 
on  wood  and  she  opened  it  as  the  barkeeper  had 
done. 

Mechanically  she  fitted  it  to  her  finger  and 
held  it  up  to  the  light.  Kijersky  stared  drunk- 
enly  and  smiled  in  maudlin  fashion. 

"I  was  going  to  give  it  to  one  kid  tonight,  but 
I  didn't  get  a  chance,"  he  mumbled.  "Keep  it, 
'dzewczyna,'  one's  as  good  as  another." 

Then  they,  too,  left  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  X. 

At  the  Sign  of  the  White  Front. 

^i  A  BAND  ON  all  hope,  ye  who  enter  here." 
-^j^  At  18  East  Twenty-second  street 
stands  the  White  Front  cafe  and  dance  hall. 
Midway  between  the  Indiana  avenue  and  State 
street  car  lines,  nestling  beneath  the  black  skele- 
ton work  of  the  South  Side  elevated,  within  a 
few  steps  of  the  Twenty-second  street  car  lines, 
it  is  the  arch  triumphant  of  that  district  flip- 
pantly known  as  "the  Tenderloin." 

Ever  since  the  oldest  rounder  can  remember 
it  has  lived  up  to  its  reputation  as  the  inner 
sanctum — the  post-graduate  course  in  the  school 
of  vice.  To  its  portals  are  brought  the  choice 
pickings  by  that  class  of  trained  procurers  and 
white  slavers  known  as  "cadets."  Many  of  them 
are  waiters  there.  Hundreds  of  them  make  it 
their  bearing  headquarters.  True,  they  do  not 
sit  at  the  tables — the  tables  are  reserved  for  the 
public.  But  they  may  be  found  swarmed  like 
bees  at  the  two  drug  stores.  Twenty-second  and 
State  and  Wabash,  at  the  cigar  store  two  doors 
east,  at  Pollack  Ben's  across  the  alley. 

It  is  here  they  loaf  while  their  "women"  work 

163 


164  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

in  Freiberg's  or  the  several  other  places  of  lesser 
reputation  in  the  vicinage.  To  them  and  their 
clearing  house  we  must  give  space  in  this  book, 
for  it  is  here  that  the  young  girl  is  brought  to 
begin  her  career,  after  she  has  been  "hooked" 
and  started  on  the  downward  way.  The  pro- 
curers and  cadets  catch  their  game  in  the  com- 
munity dance  halls.  Once  a  girl  has  been  cap- 
tured she  is  swiftly  initiated  into  "the  district." 
JMost  often  she  is  reconciled  to  life  in  the  resorts 
after  a  preliminary  taste  of  the  glamor  of  Frei- 
berg's, if  she  is  not  actually  installed  in  "the 
hall." 

For  tiearly  a  decade  Henry  Freiberg  has  lain 
in  his  grave,  remembered  only  by  the  older  deni- 
zens of  the  erstwhile  "redlight"  district,  but  over 
the  Wliite  Front  his  name  still  invites  all  to  the 
work  he  began. 

In  his  place  reigns  an  all-powerful  triumvirate, 
"Ike"  Bloom,  his  brother,  Sam,  and  "the  Alder- 
man." Its  power  is  such  as  the  original  proprie- 
tor never  dreamed  of.  In  active  management 
are  the  two  Blooms  and  a  discreet  representa- 
tive of  the  Alderman,  while  a  fourth  person, 
known  simply  as  the  Manager,  directs  the  floor 
operations  of  the  resort. 

The  saloon  and  cafe  at  the  front  serves  as  a 
reception  room  and  "blind"  for  the  dance  hall 
in  the  rear. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  165 

Over  the  place  hangs  the  clearly  defined  at- 
mos]3here  of  a  "protected"  resort.  Crusades  are 
organized,  investigations  begun  and  inquiries 
pushed  all  around  and  about  it.  Occasionally 
they  hover  above  it,  but  Freiberg's  pursues  the 
even  tenor  of  its  way,  secure  in  the  champion" 
ship  of  a  fat,  overdressed  man,  who  sits  in  the 
city  council. 

To  the  initiated  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
"the  Alderman"  exercises  the  controlling  voice 
in  the  conduct  of  "the  business."  Every  Mon- 
day evening  this  pompadoured,  overdressed  per- 
son who  sits  in  the  City  Council,  appears  at  Frei- 
berg's. He  is  greeted  respectfully  and  carries 
himself  with  an  air  of  authority  into  a  small 
room  in  the  rear  of  the  hall,  where  he  is  received 
by  "Ike"  Bloom  and  a  low-toned  conference  is 
held,  papers  are  produced  and  audited  and  re- 
ceipts are  signed. 

Occasionally  a  short  visit  is  paid  to  the  dance 
hall  before  it  is  thrown  open  at  night  and  after 
a  moment  or  two  at  the  door  the  Alderman  de- 
parts as  unobtrusively  as  he  appears.  At  ex- 
tremely rare  intervals  he  has  been  known  to  en- 
ter the  hall  and  sit  at  a  table  in  a  far  corner  with 
one  of  the  Bloom  brothers  at  his  elbow.  The 
visits,  apparently,  are  timed  so  as  to  transpire 
shortly  before  or  after  9  p.  m.,  when  the  even- 
ing's entertainment  begins.     "The  Alderman" 


166  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

never  drinks,  he  rarely  smokes,  he  talks  but  little 
and  then  in  carefully  modulated  accents.  To 
all  intents  and  purposes  he  is  a  casual  visitor,  an 
interested  spectator — but  not  too  interested — a 
presence  but  not  an  appreciable  factor. 

So  much  for  the  Alderman.  For  the  Bloom 
brothers  little  attention  is  necessary.  They  are 
types — sleek,  silent,  well-fed  types,  genial  with 
the  negative  good  fellowship  of  caution  and  sus- 
picion, past  masters  in  the  arts  of  extortion,  se- 
duction, exploitation. 

That  their  resort  is  known  all  over  the  coun- 
try is  due  partly  to  a  system  of  effective  adver- 
tising, through  the  underground  channels  of  vice 
and  partly  for  the  reason  that  it  has  weathered 
all  storms  of  reform  and  expose. 

Entrance  to  the  dance  hall  is  effected  through 
a  long  hallway  running  between  the  cafe  and 
saloon.  Admission  is  placed  at  twenty-five  cents 
with  a  fee  of  ten  cents  for  checking  the  gentle- 
man's hat.  A  lookout  at  the  door,  ostensibly  a 
ticket  taker,  exercises  his  discretion  as  to  admit- 
tance after  1  a.  m. 

The  opening  of  the  dance  hall  signalized  by 
the  appearance  of  a  score  or  more  of  profes- 
sional Magdalens  whose  presence  furnishes  the 
excuse  for  the  program  of  extortion  and  actual 
thievery  that  renders  the  White  Front  a  profit- 
paying  power  on  the  levee. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  167 

Without  exception  the  girls  are  young  and 
pretty  and  in  some  cases  real  beauties.  Youth; 
charm,  a  fair  degree  of  intelligence  and  an  ele- 
gant appearance  are  indispensable  attributes. 
Freiberg's  must  be  known  as  the  eternal  foun- 
tain of  youth  and  the  reputation  must  be  sus- 
tained, once  acquired.  Fine  feathers  are  there 
in  abundance  and  finer  birds  are  not  within  the 
ken  of  "Ike"  Bloom  that  they  are  not  added 
to  the  ensemble ;  men  may  come  and  women  may 
go,  but  the  rej)utation  of  Freiberg's  must  go  on 
forever — or  for  that  portion  of  eternity  allotted 
to  the  Bloom  brothers  and  to  the  Alderman. 

So  they  appear,  the  fifty  or  more,  dressed  with 
an  exactitude  of  fashion  and  effect  that  would 
compare  favorably  with  the  professional  appear- 
ance of  any  actress. 

Laughing  softly  or  heartily,  but  never  boister- 
ously, like  soldiers  on  parade  they  pass  in  review 
before  "Ike"  Bloom  and  the  floor  manager. 
Many  are  escorted  by  personages  who  appear 
later  as  the  waiters  of  suggestive  voice  and  insin- 
uating manner;  some  are  without  escorts,  but 
glance  about  the  hall  for  the  masters  of  their 
professional  destinies — all  appear  under  some 
system  of  surveillance,  as  they  pass  directly  to 
their  respective  stations. 

By  9  p.  m.  usually  all  are  present.  Tardi- 
Tiesis  brings  down  the  wrath  of  "Ike"  Bloom.  His 


168  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

vocabulary  at  such  a  moment  is  terrible.  By 
9:15  the  stage  is  set  and  the  reapers  wait  for 
the  evening's  harvest.  The  singers,  usually  two 
men  and  a  woman,  appear  shortly  afterward, 
while  an  "orchestra"  in  the  balcony  tunes  up. 

With  the  early  comers  the  girls  begin  their 
campaign  to  sell  drinks  for  Freiberg's.  When 
things  are  well  under  way  and  business  is  brisk, 
the  head  waiters  take  care  of  newcomers  with  a 
suave  "right  this  way."  He  seats  his  guests  at 
a  table  adjoining  another  vacant  one.  Straight- 
way a  number  of  women  take  the  adjacent  table 
and  begin  the  course  of  blandishment  prelimi- 
nary to  numerous  rounds  of  drinks. 

Freiberg's  method  is,  of  course,  to  profit 
through  the  sale  of  drinks.  The  head  waiter's 
business  is  to  see  that  they  keep  coming  without 
cessation.  In  this  he  has  the  co-operation  of  the 
girls.  A  girl  who  can  cause  the  visitors  to  the 
place  to  buy  the  biggest  bill  of  liquor  is  most 
popular  with  "Ike."  A  girl  who  falls  behind 
her  companions  in  this  qualification  is  soon 
"barred  from  the  hall." 

The  system  of  "keeping  them  coming"  is  so 
thoroughly  worked  out  that  many  veteran  visit- 
ors to  tJie  place  do  not  recognize  the  fact  that 
they  are  being  played  upon.  In  the  first  place 
visitors  are  not  solicited  by  the  management. 
The  waiters  do  not  ask  the  guests  to  buy.    The 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  169 

ushers  do  not  force  women  upon  the  visitors. 
Guests  are  not  led  to  tables  where  women  are 
seated  nor  are  they  even  asked  if  they  desire 
feminine  companionship.  The  flocking  of  women 
to  adjoining  tables  is  so  discreet  as  to  appear 
circumstantial. 

The  flirtations  are  so  naively  effected  by  the 
trained  Maisies,  Edyths  or  Olives  as  to  be  flat- 
tering and  seductive  without  suggestion  of  re- 
pulsiveness.  Once  the  guests  are  hooked  and 
the  girls  entrenched  at  the  tables  the  drinks  are 
ordered  before  the  visitors  can  realize. 

Usually,  too,  the  libations  are  alcoholic — for 
the  guests.  A  man  befuddled  with  liquor  can 
be  more  easily  and  quickly  worked  to  spend  his 
money  than  a  man  who  is  sober.  It  is  the  natu- 
ral inclination  of  man  to  defer  to  woman's 
wishes.  Consequently  the  girls  order  first.  They 
do  not  call  for  lemonades,  seltzers,  ginger  ales 
or  other  temperance  drinks. 

"Bring  me  a  ginger  ale  B.  highball,"  or  "a 
white  creme  de  menthe  B.,"  "a  B.  absinthe 
frappe,"  the  fair  companion  will  say.  An  idea 
of  courtesy  often  compels  the  man  to  order  "the 
same."  At  least  it  has  a  tendency  to  make  him 
ashamed  of  ordering  a  temperance  drink.  He 
wants  to  "be  game." 

Which  is  where  one  of  the  small  deceits  of  the 
"Ike"  Bloom  management  comes  in.    The  waiter 


170  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

obsequiously  hurries  away.  In  an  instant  he  is 
back.  He  sets  down  the  glasses.  The  man's 
drink  and  the  woman's  drink  may  be  "the  same.''' 
Say  a  ginger  ale  highball  is  ordered.  The  vis- 
itor gets  a  highball  with  a  good  stiff  drink  of 
whisky.  Mazie  gets  a  drink  identically  similar 
in  looks,  taste  and  smell. 

That  is  as  far  as  the  comparison  goes.  In 
effect  the  difference  is  vital.  When  Mazie  or- 
dered she  said  a  "B"  highball.  The  visitor  paid 
no  attention  to  the  "B."  The  waiter  did.  And 
Mazie's  drink  was  consequentially  an  excellent 
imitation  of  a  whisky  highball  without  a  drop  of 
whisky  or  other  alcoholic  spirits  in  it.  So  with 
every  libation  served.  Freiberg's  bartenders  can 
mix  any  real  drink  known  and  a  perfect  imi- 
tation of  it  that  is  harmless  in  effect. 

Which  explains  why  Freiberg's  girls  can  drink 
enough  mixed  and  potent  hquors  to  stupefy  or 
kill  a  score  or  more  of  men  in  a  single  evening, 
and  still  retain  their  wits.  The  advantage  is 
both  Mazie's  and  the  management's.  It  makes 
it  possible  for  her  to  prolong  her  career  for  sev- 
eral years,  perhaps.  And  it  makes  it  possible 
for  the  White  Front  to  maintain  its  reputation 
as  the  fountain  of  youth. 

After  the  drinks  have  been  ordered  and  the 
first  "here's  how"  has  been  said,  the  fine  work 
of  the  Freiberg  trained  waiters  is  brought  into 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  171 

play.  A  waiter  serves  a  drink,  he  carefully 
wipes  off  the  table.  He  sets  down  his  check. 
He  makes  change  and  returns  the  change  on  a 
small  tray.  The  change  is  put  on  the  tray  and 
so  offered  to  the  guest  because  it  aids  in  extract- 
ing the  tip.  Had  the  waiter  handed  the  change 
to  the  guest  he  might  be  expected  to  turn  his 
back  and  walk  away.  The  transaction  would 
be  ended.  Had  he  laid  the  change  on  the  table 
he  would  get  less  time  to  stand  in  front  of  the 
guest  and  prolong  the  invitation  for  the  tip.  But 
by  laying  the  change  on  a  small  wet  tray  and 
offering  the  tray  to  the  guest  he  is  able  to  intrude 
himself  more  securely.  The  guest  has  a  hard 
time  to  pick  the  small  change  off  the  tray — there 
is  always  small  change,  which  is  another  thing 
the  waiter  sees  to.  The  small  change  sticks  to 
the  wet  surface.  His  clumsiness  is  observed  by 
the  eyes  of  the  waiter  and  the  girls  at  the  table. 
What  is  more  natural  for  him  in  his  embarrass- 
ment than  to  take  part  of  the  money  and  leave 
the  rest  for  the  waiter?  He  thus  both  puts  an 
end  to  an  embarrassment  and  flatters  himself 
that  he  has  made  a  good  impression  on  both 
waiter  and  companions  as  a  good  fellow. 

The  waiter  bows  and  expresses  his  thanks  in 
just  the  proper  tenor — not  too  profuse,  not  too 
perfunctory.  He  then  reaches  into  a  vest  pocket, 
extracts  a  few  matches  and  places  them  before 


172  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

the  visitor.  The  subtlety  of  tliis  small  flattery 
is  effective.  But  does  the  waiter  go  away?  He 
does  not.  He  hovers  near  enough  to  be  within 
call  and  to  seize  the  advantage  of  the  opportu- 
nity to  display  another  feature  of  his  training. 

An  appreciable  instant  and  he  dashes  over 
and  wipes  off  the  table.  This  has  the  psycho- 
logical effect  of  impressing  the  guest  somehow 
that  it  is  up  to  him  to  order  another  drink.  What 
matter  that  the  glasses  are  but  half  emptied? 
The  guest  doesn't  stop  to  reason  it  out.  He 
either  gulps  down  his  libation  and  calls  for  an- 
other round,  or  he  permits  the  waiter  to  take 
away  the  half-filled  glasses  with  an  order  for 
another  round.  Perhaps  he  fails  to  see  the 
waiter  at  all.  Then  it  is  the  part  of  the  enam- 
ored Mazie  to  suggest  that  she  doesn't  like  her 
ginger  ale  highball  but  she  would  like  a  creme 
de  menthe,  whereupon  the  waiter  carries  away 
both  Mazie's  glass  and  the  guest's. 

In  event  all  of  these  fail  there  is  another  ex- 
pedient. The  orchestra  strikes  up  a  waltz  or  a 
two-step.  The  visitor  would  like  to  dance.  Out 
on  the  floor  they  whirl.  They  circle  it  two  or 
three  times.  The  music  stops.  Part  of  Ike's 
system  is  to  make  the  dances  short.  They  return 
to  the  table.  The  drinks  have  disappeared.  But 
the  waiter  is  at  hand  to  ask  "the  lady  and  gentle- 
man's pleasure"  and  to  secure  another  tip. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  173 

This  extraction  of  the  tip  is  compelled  by  the 
management  of  the  White  Front.  The  guest 
may  suspect  that  the  waiter  gets  the  tip.  A>s 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  waiter  gets  20  per  cent  of 
the  tip.  The  rest  goes  to  the  management.  So 
it  can  be  seen  that  the  waiters  are  on  probation 
as  well  as  the  girls.  The  waiter  who  fails  to 
produce  tip  money  as  well  as  his  fellows  is  in 
danger  of  being  "barred  from  the  hall." 

So  it  is  to  the  interest  of  both  Mazie  and  the 
waiter  to  work  together.  Oftentimes  their  rela- 
tions are  far  more  close  than  the  visitor  dreams 
of.  The  waiter  is  always  the  servant.  Mazie 
may  call  him  "waiter,"  "here,  you  waiter." 
"Isn't  it  simply  frightful  the  way  these  waiters 
neglect  you?" 

The  waiter  may  be  servile  and  obsequious. 
The  guest  may  squeeze  Mazie's  hand,  tickle  her 
under  the  chin,  flirt  outrageously.  Mazie  may 
do  the  same  under  the  eyes  of  the  oblivious 
waiter.  The  visitor  may  be  so  foolish  as  to 
believe  that  Mazie  has  really  fallen  desperately 
in  love  with  him.  The  guest  doesn't  give  a 
thought  to  the  waiter.  But  if  the  guest  only 
knew,  Mazie  and  the  waiter  are  probable  lovers. 
She  is  "his  woman"  and  he  is  her  cadet.  It's 
only  one  paradox  in  this  altogether  paradoxical 
life. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  Tragedy  of  Freiberg^s. 

OUTSIDE  in  the  garish  brightness  of 
Twenty-second  street  it  was  raining, 
slowly,  steadily,  dismally.  The  lights  of  the  sa- 
loons and  cafes  burned  as  brightly  and  steadily 
as  usual,  but  a  general  depression  was  noticeable 
in  the  "district." 

Entering  the  White  Front,  things  assumed  a 
brighter  aspect.  The  bartender  assured  you 
that  things  were  "dead,"  and  softly  cursed  a  re- 
fractory chief  of  police,  who  "thought  he  was 
running  the  town."  Oh  yes,  the  hall  was  going 
well,  but  the  demand  for  once  had  fallen  below 
the  supply.  New  girls?  Yes,  one  or  two;  we 
were  expected  to  know  how  "Ike"  "sticks"  for 
the  "new  stuff -nothing  but  chicken  and  class." 

A  glance  about  the  dance  hall  revealed  noth- 
ing unusual.  The  girls  evidently  had  just  ar- 
rived— it  was  shortly  after  9  o'clock — and  the 
singers  were  striking  a  steam  calliope  chord  in  the 
invitation  to  "Come  on  an'  hear;  Come  on  an' 
hear."  There  were  two  of  us  and  we  received 
the  accustomed  nod  of  recognition  accorded 
visitors  who  have  appeared  more  than  once. 

174 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  175 

Business  was  indeed  slow,  as  the  bartender 
had  said,  for  there  was  but  a  bare  handful  of 
"live  ones"  in  the  hall.  Florence  and  Fay  came 
forward  with  a  smile  of  apparent  recognition,  in 
their  wake  the  inevitable  waiter. 

Florence  seemed  tired,  too  tired  even  for  the 
mechanical  fascination  she  necessarily  must  as- 
sume. She  was  one  of  the  oldest  of  Freiberg's 
girls,  26  in  fact,  and  rapidly  losing  "the  punch," 
as  she  said  herself.  Deep,  dark  circles  were  un- 
der her  eyes,  plain  even  under  their  coat  of  flesh 
tint,  and  her  lips  drooped  perceptibly,  the  plain- 
est evidence  that  she  was  losing  her  "class."  That 
she  was  on  the  decline  as  regards  her  professional 
ability  was  evident  in  the  look  exchanged  by  her 
with  the  waiter,  her  "cadet"  plainly. 

Annoyance  was  visible  in  his  face,  while  the 
girl  watched  his  expression  anxiously,  almost  im- 
ploringly. He  averted  his  gaze  and  a  look  of 
despair  settled  on  her  face.  The  "cadet"  had 
settled  her  destiny  in  his  own  mind  and  his 
"woman"  knew  that  her  days  in  this  lucrative  if 
exacting  temple  of  youth  were  numbered. 

In  sharp  contrast,  was  the  appearance  of  the 
other  girl.  She  was  a  "fresh  one  on  the  beat," 
as  her  companion  explained,  and  typical  of  the 
Freiberg  method.  Expensively  dressed,  with  a 
studied  lack  of  vulgar  display,  she  was  one  of 
the  best  looking  girls  in  the  hall.    In  her  smart 


176  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

blue  serge  suit,  tailored  by  an  expert,  with  a  white 
lace  waist,  surmounted  by  a  small,  modest  hat, 
she  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  well  nur- 
tured, carefully  guarded  daughter  of  a  respect- 
able family. 

Obviously,  Fay  had  been  "teamed"  with  Flor- 
ence to  become  educated  in  the  Freiberg  system. 
Traces  of  her  inexperience  were  visible  in  an  ex- 
cess of  rouge  and  powder,  but  she  fitted  into  the 
general  color  scheme  well. 

Florence,  with  an  effort  at  vivacity,  signaled 
the  waiter  for  her  counterfeit  "B"  highball,  while 
Fay  gayly  "offered  to  match  for  the  drink."  A 
disapproving  glance  from  the  older  girl  and  the 
waiter's  open  scowl  warned  her  that  she  was 
treading  on  dangerous  ground,  and  she  quickly 
withdrew  her  offer  "to  toss  for  it."  The  "i*ound" 
came  to  70  cents  with  a  30  cent  tip,  and  the 
waiter's  expression  relaxed  a  trifle.  The  relief 
in  Florence's  face  repaid  the  donor. 

The  singers  finished  a  second  song  and,  at  the 
conclusion,  made  the  round  of  the  tables  with  a 
small  tray  for  contributions.  Fay  laughingly 
took  a  quarter  from  the  change  on  the  table  and 
tossed  it  into  the  plate. 

The  singer  smiled  and  moved  on.  Florence 
shot  an  inquiring  glance  in  our  direction.  The 
orchestra  in  the  balcony  furnished  an  interrup- 
tion and  Fay  with  her  companion  arose  to  dance. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  177 

"Do  you  dance?'*  inquired  Florence  without 
enthusiasm.  She  was  evidently  hoping  for  a 
negative  answer. 

"No,  hut  you  don't  seem  to  be  very  enthusias- 
tic about  it,  anyway,"  we  answered.  Florence's 
expression  warned  of  tragedy  and  that  was  what 
we  sought.  She  responded  with  a  glance,  quick, 
startled,  suspicious. 

"I'm  not,  if  you  want  to  know  it,"  she  answered 
slowly,  cautiously  glancing  about  her  to  note  if 
the  waiter  was  within  earshot.  The  Manager's 
eyes  were  on  her  and  she  glanced  at  him  in  alarm. 
"To  tell  you  the  truth,  I'm  sick  of  the  whole 
thing." 

"What's  the  matter?    All  in?" 

"No,  but  I'm  on  the  shde,  and  I'll  soon  be  on 
the  street  again.  You  know  what  that  means 
for  a  couple  of  years  after  this,"  she  waved  her 
hand  about  her  and  the  look  of  despair  deepened 
on  her  face. 

Freiberg's  is  the  acme  of  ambition  for  the 
street  walker,  the  cafe  "hustler"  and  the  less 
favored  "divinities  of  the  gashght  and  the  pave- 
ments." 

It  promises  a  life  of  comparative  ease,  of  some 
degree  of  protection,  of  a  certain  form  of  peculiar 
respect  among  their  sisters  "in  the  deep  purple" 
and  certain  advantages,  exclusive  to  those  worl£« 


178  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

ing  for  the  protected  triumvirate  of  the  White 
Front. 

Small  wonder  is  it  that  the  girl  "on  the  slide" 
should  hang  on  and  on  until  her  inability  to  fur- 
ther the  interests  of  the  Bloom  brothers  automati- 
cally disqualifies  her? 

That  Florence  was  struggling  between  a  de- 
sire to  confide  in  her  questioner  and  fear  that  it 
might  hurt  her  was  evident.  Several  times  she 
glanced  across  the  table  doubtfully,  started  to 
speak,  then  ended  by  suggesting  a  drink. 

In  the  middle  of  the  hall  the  dance  was  going 
on  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  catchy  ragtime  air. 
Fay  and  her  partner  glided  past,  the  girl  at- 
tempting to  force  the  man  into  a  boisterous 
dance,  through  mere  excess  of  spirits.  Florence 
glanced  at  her  and  at  the  other  "fresh  ones"  with 
an  expression  of  resentment.  This  changed  to 
a  sort  of  paradoxical  pity,  and  the  girl  "on  the 
slide"  philosophized,  after  the  manner  of  those 
who  have  gone  the  pace  that  really  kills.  Flor- 
ence rarely  was  suggestive  in  her  conversation, 
never  obscene  for  the  sake  of  being  obscene.  She 
was  "on  the  turf  for  the  coin"  and  she  professed 
to  take  her  life  as  a  business  proposition. 

"I've  got  a  little  ambition  left,"  she  said,  "but 
not  much.  Just  look  at  that  little  fool  dancing 
around  here  and  trying  to  make  that  fellow  do 
the  'bear.'  Eighteen  years  old  and  she  tliinks 
she's  living  because  she's  been  at  Freiberg's  for 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  179 

three  days.  Wait  till  she's  been  here  as  long  as 
I  have" — she  broke  off  and  glanced  across  the 
table  anxiously. 

"How  long?"  was  asked  casually.  Florence 
started,  then  smiled  the  cynical  smile  analogous 
to  her  life. 

"What's  the  diff  ?  I  guess  you  can't  knock  my 
ffame  a  whole  lot  more.  I've  been  here  nearly 
five  years,  except  for  three  months  I  spent  in  the 
hospital  last  year.  I  hold  the  record  for  en- 
durance," she  smiled  bitterly,  "but  I'm  like  the 
pitcher  that  went  to  the  bucket,  or  the  well,  or 
whatever  it  was,  once  too  often.  No,  I  wasn't 
any  chicken  when  I  hit  Freiberg's  first.  I  was 
on  the  street  for  quite  a  while. 

There  was  a  fellow  who  had  me  on  the  string 
and  he  put  me  on  to  the  Front  after  I'd  been  at 
it  for  several  months.  I  had  the  looks  and  I 
didn't  come  from  any  "Little  Hell"  neighbor- 
hood, either.  Never  mind  how  I  'broke  in.'  I 
came  from  the  country  and  'Ike'  thought  my 
color  worked  Avell  on  the  jays  from  the  country 
with  the  kale.  I  took  to  the  glad  rags  idea  from 
the  start  and  when  I  togged  up  with  all  the  show 
window  scenery  I  was  some  kid.  You  know  the 
stunt  here,  good  clothes,  a  good  line  of  talk, 
dance,  sing,  make  'em  buy  drinks  and  keep  the 
waiters  on  the  jump;  then  line  your  man  up  for 
*Ike's'  hotel  over  at  the  corner.  I  suppose  you've 
been  stung,  too. 


180  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

"I  played  the  game  to  the  limit  and  I  copped 
the  diamond  ring  that  'Ike'  put  up  for  the  girl 
who  sold  the  most  drinks  just  before  Christmas, 
more  than  once.  The  last  time  I  got  the  prize 
was  about  a  j^ear  ago,  when  the  Alderman  put 
up  the  ring.  This  is  it,"  and  she  exhibited  a  soli- 
taire, worth  in  the  neighborhood  of  $200. 

"Can  the  management  afford  to  put  up  a  ring 
like  that  for  the  profit  on  the  drinks?"  asked  the 
listener  in  surprise.  Florence  laughed  cynically 
and  held  the  ring  up. 

"A  ring  like  that?  Why,  'Ike'  or  the  Alder- 
man could  put  one  of  these  up  any  good  night 
and  get  back  more  than  what  he  paid  for  it. 
Besides,  the  ring  probably  came  from  some  girl 
who  was  crazy  enough  to  soak  it  and  cost  the 
Boss  $50  or  $60.  Well,  anyhow,  I  won  it  after 
selling  between  $25  and  $50  worth  of  drinks  each 
night  on  an  average.  One  night  I  made  a  sporty 
little  gent  buy  $100  worth  of  champagne  which 
cost  the  house  about  eight  bucks. 

"I  was  a  good  one  for  *Ike'  and  he  knew  it, 
and  I  was  the  'star  girl'  up  to  a  year  ago." 
Florence  stopped,  apparently  surprised  at  the 
degree  of  confidence  she  had  entered  into  with  a 
comparative  stranger.  The  waiter  hurried  up 
and  cast  a  questioning  glance  at  the  girl.  She 
smiled  feebly  at  her  vis-a-vis  and  an  order  was 
f ortlicoming,  for  the  rest  of  the  story  hung  in  the 
balance.    Again  the  look  of  relief  from  the  girl 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  181 

and  the  returning  smile  to  the  waiter's  coun- 
tenance. Perhaps  he  had  begun  to  think  his 
*'woman"  had  taken  a  "brace"  and  that  meant  so 
much  more  "easy"  money  for  him. 

The  dance  had  halted  and  Fay  and  her  com- 
panion had  left  the  hall.  The  girls  at  Freiberg's 
are  not  permitted  to  leave  their  positions  between 
the  hours  of  9 :00  p.  m.  and  3 :00  a.  m.  until  with 
a  male  compai  ion.  The  personage  at  the  door 
smiled  agreeably  at  "the  fresh  one"  as  she  passed 
out.  Such  is  the  power  of  youth  that  even  the 
Manager  exchanged  a  compliment  with  the 
"live"  Fay. 

The  orchestra  struck  up  an  air  suggestive  of 
many  things,  and  in  a  moment  the  dance  was  in 
full  swing.  The  hall  had  now  drawn  quite  a 
gathering  and  the  girls  were  warming  up  to  the 
evening's  work.  Over  in  one  corner  a  boy  much 
the  worse  for  the  numerous  "rounds"  ordered, 
was  embracing  a  woman  five  or  six  years  his 
senior,  while  she  extracted  his  watch  from  his 
pocket. 

Waiters  hurried  to  and  fro  with  the  drinks, 
expensive  wines,  cordials  or  cocktails  for  the 
men  and  the  "B"  counterfeits  for  the  women. 

"After  I  had  been  at  the  game  for  a  while  I 
saw  why  *Ike'  and  the  rest  insisted  on  fresh  girls 
all  the  time,"  continued  Florence.  "Youth,  good 
looks  and  a  whole  lot  of  class  you've  got  to  have 
if  you  expect  to  make  the  rubes  keep  buying  the 


182  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

drinks  at  campaign  prices.  Then  thei'vi's  the 
hotel  end  of  it.  Five  dollars  they  charge  and  we 
get  half.  The  hotel's  a  great  graft  and  we've 
got  to  support  it.  If  we  don't  take  the  fellow 
there  we  get  in  bad  with  the  Boss.  They've  al- 
ways got  a  spotter  on  the  job  and  they  know 
when  we  double  cross  them. 

Well,  you  know  all  that  end  of  it.  I've  been 
doing  it  for  five  years  and  I  supj^)Osed  I've  had 
mine.  I've  made  money  but  I've  had  to  spend  it 
to  keep  up  with  the  rest  of  the  girls.  We  all 
spend  our  coin  for  the  rags  and  what's  left  goes, 
some  of  it  to  the  'cadet,'  some  for  the  hop  and  the 
cocaine,  while  some  of  us  hit  the  drink  a  little  too 
hard.  Since  I  felt  myself  slipping  I've  cut  all 
that  out.  I  never  did  dope  and  I've  quit  drink- 
ing anything  but  the  cough  syrup  they  hand  us 
here,"  smiling  into  the  "B"  drink  before  her. 

"How  much  drinking  do  the  girls  actually  do 
here?"    The  girl  "on  the  slide"  smiled  cjmically. 

"In  the  five  years  I've  been  here  I've  only  seen 
a  few  girls  drunk  in  the  hall,  and  they  w^ere 
bounced  for  it.  Hurt  business,  the  boss  said,  and 
I  guess  he's  right.  The  only  time  they  get  a 
girl  drunk  is  when  they're  landing  her.  A  man 
can  stand  for  a  crooked  girl  and  even  like  her, 
but  they've  got  no  use  for  a  sloppy  or  a  drunken 
one.  Nothing  takes  the  good  looks  away  like 
the  booze.    Of  course,  lots  of  girls  get  too  much 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  183 

and  ^tt  a  little  bit  foolish,  but  so  long  as  they 
don't  get  dead  drunk  they're  all  right. 

"You  know  the  reputation  this  place  has.  No 
decent  girl  ever  comes  here  unless  they're  land- 
ing her,  and  if  she  does — 'good  night,'  "  she  con- 
cluded sententiously.  "Once  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  quit  the  business.  I  had  a  chance  to  get 
married  to  a  fellow  down  in  Paxton,  111. 

"I  met  him  on  a  train  and  struck  up  quite  an 
acquaintance.  He  didn't  know  I  was  on  the  turf 
and  I  wasn't  going  to  tell  him.  He  even  took 
out  a  marriage  license,  and  I  kept  it  quiet  around 
here,  but  the  thing  never  came  off." 

"Why?" 

"My  farmer  from  Paxton  came  in  here  one 
week  before  I  was  to  go  there;  so  drunk  that  he 
couldn't  see  the  doorway.  He  was  with  two 
friends  as  bad  as  himself,  and  sat  down  at  that 
table  over  there.  It  was  Saturday  night  and 
there  was  quite  a  crowd,  so  I  didn't  see  him  at 
first.  Harry,  the  waiter,  came  and  got  me  and 
two  other  girls  and  we  went  to  the  table. 

"The  men  looked  at  us  and  my  farmer 
straightened  like  a  ramrod.  He  recognized  me 
in  a  minute  and  I  saw  there  wasn't  any  use  in 
stalling,  so  I  sat  down  and  let  him  talk,  cry  and 
swear.    I  only  asked  one  question.    I  said: 

"  'How  do  you  happen  to  be  here?' 

"  'I  was  out  for  a  little  fling  before  we  set- 
tled do^vvn,'  he  said,  and  then  went  on  to  curse 


184  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

me  over  and  over.  Of  course,  that  spilled  the 
beans.  He  took  one  of  the  other  girls  out  and 
broke  her  nose  after  a  fight.  I  never  saw  him 
since,  and  I  wouldn't  care  to.  He's  respectable, 
although  he  has  his  little  fling,  and  I'm  not,  be- 
cause my  fling's  a  business.  Well,  here's  to  him. 
He's  probably  married  some  innocent  little  coun- 
try girl,  worthy  of  him  and  his  opinion.'*  The 
sarcasm  was  as  impersonal  as  her  story. 

The  dance  had  started  again  and  Florence 
stirred  restively,  as  if  she  had  remembered  some- 
thing unpleasant. 

"How  about  your  family?  Do  they  know 
where  you  are?" 

"I  should  say  not,"  was  the  answer,  for  the 
first  time  anything  but  detached.  "In  the  little 
old  house  the  folks  have  a  picture  of  me  hving 
at  the  Y.  W.  C.  A.,  singing  in  the  church  choirs 
and  working  as  a  telephone  girl  at  the  honorable 
salaiy  of  six  dollars  per  week." 

The  girl  "on  the  slide"  did  not  smile  as  she 
spoke.  She  glanced  about  the  hall  wearily  and 
the  lines  about  her  mouth  deepened.  The  lis- 
tener noticed  the  cold  set  to  those  lines.  Her 
clothes  were  scrupulous.  But  the  ravages  of  her 
life  were  chiseled  too  deeply  for  powder  or  paint 
to  conceal. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I've  finished  my  story  and 
I'm  done,  done  with  Freiberg's.    I  quit  tonight. 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  185 

I've  seen  that  look  in  Ike's  face  before  and  I 
know  what  it  means.  He's  going  to  bar  me  from 
the  hall  if  I  don't  beat  him  to  it.  I've  slid  far- 
ther than  I  thought,  and  it's  no  use." 
"Where  are  you  going?  Home?" 
"Not  on  your  life.  I  couldn't  stand  my  folks 
and  they  couldn't  stand  me.  I  ain't  any  fool.  I 
couldn't  live  in  a  jay  town  with  nothing  doing 
but  prayer  meeting  and  a  moving  picture  show. 
My  folks  haven't  heard  from  me  since  I  came 
here  and  they  don't  want  to  hear  from  me  now. 
There  was  a  girl  here,  I  roomed  with — Hazel. 
She'd  been  in  the  hall  before  me.  About  a  year 
ago  Ike  barred  her.  She  tried  to  hustle  on  the 
streets,  but  it  was  no  use.  You  see  Ike  and  the 
Alderman  won't  let  girls  hustle  on  the  street.  It 
ain't  the  police  or  the  law.  It's  because  street 
girls  take  the  business  away  from  these  people. 
And  these  people  run  the  police.  So  the  police 
won't  let  girls  work  on  the  street,  and  the  public 
thinks  the  police  are  simply  doing  their  duty.  If 
they  were  doing  their  duty  don't  you  think  they'd 
close  a  place  like  this? 

"Hazel  got  so  discouraged  she  was  drunk  every 
night.  One  night  she  fell  down  stairs  and  broke 
her  neck.  That's  the  way  the  most  go.  Drink 
and  dope  finishes  'em  quick  when  they're  dis- 
couraged. I  knew  one  girl  that  saved  $1,800 
and  she  bought  a  rooming  house  when  she  was 


186  FROM  DANCE  HALL 

too  old  to  work  here.  But  most  of  'em  commit 
suicide  or  just  get  drunk  and  die — ^yes,  they  just 
get  drunk  and  die.    That's  me,  I  guess." 

"But  how  about  your,  er — lover,  that  waiter; 
won't  he  take  care  of  you  ?" 

"Him?  When  Henry  first  got  stuck  on  me  he 
made  me  think  he'd  die  for  me.  But  he's  like  the 
rest  of  'em.  Once  he  got  me  he  didn't  think 
nothing  more  of  me  but  to  take  my  money.  Last 
night  he  beat  me  up  because  I  couldn't  give  him 
ten  dollars  to  go  to  the  fight." 

"You  haven't  any  marks." 

"They  don't  show.  These  fellows  take  care 
not  to  mark  your  face.  That'd  spoil  business. 
But  I've  got  'em  on  my  body  all  right.  If  he 
knew  I  was  quitting  tonight  he'd  kill  me.  But 
he  ain't  going  to  know.  I  lost  him  when  I  lost 
my  class." 

The  girl  got  up.  She  went  into  a  cloak  room. 
When  she  emerged  she  was  dressed  for  the 
street.  She  started  away.  The  floor  manager 
stopped  her. 

"Here  you,"  he  said.    "Where  are  you  going?" 

"I'm  sick,"  said  the  girl.    "I  gotta  go  home.'* 

"Sick!  By  God,  wait  till  I  tell  Ike  and  he'll 
make  you  sick.  The  nerve — trying  to  leave  the 
hail  and  it's  only  12  o'clock.  Now  you  git  off 
them  duds  and  git  out  on  the  floor  an  hustle  or 
I'll  bust  yer  block  off.  You  otta  be  barred  from 
the  hall,  you  had.    Haven't  earned  a  jitney  for 


TO  WHITE  SLAVERY  187 

six  months.  Hey,  you  Henry,"  he  beckoned  to 
the  waiter.  "Take  care  o'  yer  woman.  She  says 
she's  sick." 

Henry,  the  obsequious  waiter,  ran  up.  He 
doubled  his  fist.  He  hooked  it  viciously  into  the 
girl's  breast,  once — three  times. 

"Now  you  git  busy." 

The  floor  manager  turned  his  back  and  walked 
away.  The  girl  looked  at  the  waiter.  His  jaw 
was  thrust  forward,  his  fist  doubled  for  another 
blow.  Slowly  the  fight  died  from  her  eyes.  She 
slunk  into  the  cloak  room.  In  a  few  minutes  she 
was  out  again — her  face  freshly  powdered,  her 
lips  crimsoned.  She  made  her  way  to  a  table. 
As  we  turned  away  she  was  tossing  her  head 
pertly,  laughing  with  forced  gayety,  casting  the 
slant,  coy  look  of  invitation  at  the  few  men  in 
the  hall  who  were  not  engaged.  She  was  back 
again  in  the  life  she  had  threatened  to  quit.  Its 
grip  would  probably  hold  until  the  interval  of 
a  few  short  months  when  the  hand  of  death 
intervened. 

In  the  hallwaj^  the  eavesdropper  passed  Fay 
leading  another  young  man  through  the  door  of 
the  White  Front  to  "the  corner."  Her  eyes  were 
bright,  her  smile  natural. 

"Some  class,  eh?"  murmured  the  doorman  to 
himself.  The  listener  sought  the  rain  of  the 
street. 


Youth  attracts,   and  innocence  unenlightened  makes   easy  the 
work  of  the  wily  procurer. 


PART  TWO 


Tragedies  of  the  White  Slaves 


ET 


H.  M.  LYTLE 

Special  Investigator  lot  the  Metropolitan  Press 


Contents. 

Foreword    3 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Maternity  Home 9 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Want  Ad 23 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Assignation  House ...     39 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Immigrant  Girl 48 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Stage 59 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Five  Thousand 77 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The   Tragedy  of  the  Little  Lace   Maker 
(Ella  Gingles'  Own  Story) 92 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  First  Night 103 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Arrested   117 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Second  Orgy 126 

CHAPTER  XL 

Ella  Gingles  On  Trial   (by  Hal  McLeod 
Lytle)    140 


Foreword. 

The  lives  of  5,000  young  girls  are  laid  upon 
the  altar  of  lust  every  year  in  the  city  of  Chicago 
alone. 

The  insatiable  rapacity  of  man,  the  lust  of  the 
hunt,  the  demands  of  brutish  passion  ordain  it 
that  these  5,000  young  innocents  be  led  forth  to 
the  slaughter,  annually. 

This  statement  is  not  a  matter  of  guess.  It  is 
the  estimate  of  officers  of  the  Chicago  Law  and 
Order  League,  the  Illinois  Vigilance  Society,  the 
police  authorities  and  Assistant  State's  Attorney 
CHfford  G.  Roe. 

There  are  68,000  women  leading  a  nameless 
existence  in  the  city  of  Chicago  alone.  This  is 
the  police  estimate,  based  upon  a  census  made  by 
the  captains  of  the  different  poHce  districts.  It 
includes  the  women  who  live — and  die — in  the 
temples  of  shame  on  Twenty-second  street,  on 
the  Strand  in  South  Chicago,  on  the  West  Side, 
and  on  Wells  street  and  vicinity  on  the  North 
Side.  It  includes  the  "street  walkers,"  the  girls 
who  infest  such  dance  halls  in  Twenty-second 
street,  the  women  in  private  flats,  and  the  mis- 
tresses of  wealthy  men. 

The  average  duration  of  a  woman  leading  a 

3 


4  WHITE  SLAVE 

life  of  shame  is  from  two  to  twelve  years,  accord- 
ing to  Dr.  L.  Blake  Baldwin,  city  physician.  Dr. 
Baldwin  places  his  average  at  four  years,  basing 
this  upon  the  life  of  the  woman  in  the  brothel 
where  the  majority  of  fallen  women  are  to  be 
found. 

Drink,  which  goes  hand  in  hand  with  vice, 
cigarette  smoking,  various  kinds  of  "dope,"  the 
all  night  method  of  living  and  the  daily  vicissi- 
tudes of  existence  are  the  contributing  causes, 
according  to  Mr.  Baldwin.  But  the  chief  cause 
of  early  demise  is  the  ravages  of  diseases  insep- 
arable from  immoral  hfe. 

The  result  is  that  the  market  houses  are  yawn- 
ing, constantly  holding  forth  an  insatiable  maw 
into  which  new  blood  must  be  poured,  new  Hves 
must  be  thrown,  more  young  innocents  must  be 
devoured. 

And  this  is  the  reason  for  the  existence  of  this 
book.  If  one  mother  or  father  may  be  warned 
in  time,  if  one  single  life  may  be  saved  from  the 
traps  men  make  and  the  lures  they  bait  for  the 
enslavement  of  the  flower  and  innocence  of  the 
nation  the  author  will  have  been  well  repaid  in- 
deed. 


A  great  many  persons  are  yet  skeptical  of  the 
existence  of  an  organized  traffic  in  young  girls. 


TRAGEDIES  5 

If  they  could  have  been  in  the  courts  of  Chicago 
their  minds  would  have  been  disabused  of  the  idea 
that  organized  slavery  does  not  exist  in  Chicago. 
— Assistant  State's  Attorney  Clifford  G.  Roe. 

Within  one  week  I  had  seven  letters  from  fa- 
thers, from  Madison,  Wisconsin,  on  the  north,  to 
Peoria,  Illinois,  on  the  south,  asking  me  in  God's 
name  to  do  something  to  help  find  their  daugh- 
ters because  they  had  come  to  Chicago  and  dis- 
appeared. The  mothers,  the  fathers,  even  the 
daughters  must  be  educated  regarding  the  lures 
that  men  set  or  white  slavery  can  not  be  abol- 
ished.— Judge  John  R.  Newcomer,  of  the  Mu- 
nicipal Courts. 

This  book  should  go  into  the  homes  of  every 
family  in  this  wide  nation,  rich  and  poor,  sophis- 
ticated and  unsophisticated,  city  homes  or  coun- 
try homes.  It  is  only  when  parents  realize  the 
pitfalls  that  they  will  be  able  to  avoid  them. — The 
Rev.  R.  Keene  Ryan,  Pastor  of  the  Garfield 
Boulevard  Presbyterian  Church. 

Weakness  and  lack  of  understanding  appeal 
to  me  as  the  opportunity  for  the  work  of  these 
human  vultures.  That  young  women  passing 
the  ages  of  from  15  to  20  years  need  more  coun- 
sel and  guidance  than  many  good  mothers  sus- 
pect.— Judge  Richard  S.  Tuthill,  of  the  Juvenile 
Court. 

The  victims  of  the  traffic  are  first  ensnared, 


6  WHITE  SLAVE 

then  enslaved,  then  diseased.  Not  until  honest 
men  take  the  stand  that  will  result  in  the  abolition 
of  the  segregated  districts  can  this  practice  of 
white  slavery  be  stopped. — The  Rev.  Ernest  A. 
Bell,  Superintendent  of  the  Midnight  Mission 
and  Secretary  of  the  Illinois  Vigilance  Associa- 
tion. 

The  recent  examination  of  more  than  200 
"white  slaves"  by  the  office  of  the  United  States 
district  attorney  has  brought  to  light  the  fact  that 
literally  thousands  of  innocent  girls  from  the 
country  districts  are  every  year  entrapped  into  a 
life  of  hopeless  slavery  and  degradation  because 
their  parents  do  not  understand  conditions  as 
they  exist  and  how  to  protect  their  daughters 
from  the  white  slave  traders  who  have  reduced 
the  art  of  ruining  yoimg  girls  to  a  national  and 
international  system. — Hon.  Edwin  W.  Simms, 
United  States  District  Attorney  at  Chicago. 

If  parents  will  shut  their  eyes  to  this  canker 
that  is  feeding  on  the  flower  of  our  nation  they 
may  continue  to  expect  their  daughters  to  be 
"kidnapped,"  lost  or  mysteriously  missing. — 
Arthur  Burrage  Farwell,  of  the  Law  and  Order 
League. 


THE  TRAGEDIES  OF  THE 
WHITE  SLAVES. 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Maternity  Home. 

A  young  reporter  for  a  great  Chicago  news- 
paper was  sent  by  his  city  editor  into  the  heart  of 
the  "red  hght"  district  to  investigate  a  murder  at 
one  of  the  city's  brothels. 

The  trail  of  the  story  led  the  reporter  into  one 

of  the  most  notorious  dens  of  the  city,  the  "E 

club."  This  home  of  vice  is  located  in  a  three- 
story  stone  mansion.  Around  it  radiates  the  elite 
of  the  district.  It  is  owned  by  two  sisters,  im- 
mensely wealth}- ,  who  have  made  their  fortune 
through  the  barter  of  gu'ls'  souls. 

A  negro  butler  attired  in  Uvery  admitted  him 
into  the  reception  room  of  this  gilded  den.  Vel- 
vet carpets  that  sank  beneath  the  feet  covered  the 
floors.  Massive  paintings  by  old  masters  were 
on  the  walls.  The  gilded  ceilings  radiated  the 
glare  of  vari-colored  lights  which  studded  it. 

From  the  silver  dance-room  came  the  sound  of 
soft  music,  interspersed  with  the  discordant 
laughter  of  drunken  men  and  girls. 

In  a  few  seconds  a  woman  entered  the  recep- 
tion room.     She  was  prettily  clad  in  a  flowing 


10  WHITE  SLAVE 

silk  gown.  Her  mass  of  black  hair  was  wreathed 
about  her  head. 

As  she  met  the  gaze  of  the  reporter  she  started, 
and  fled,  as  though  terrified,  from  the  room.  The 
recognition  had  been  mutual. 

In  the  face  of  the  fallen  woman  the  reporter 
had  seen  the  features  of  an  innocent  girl  who  had 
been  a  playmate  of  but  a  few  years  before. 

Her  family  was  wealthy.  Her  father  was  one 
of  the  most  prominent  surgeons  in  Illinois.  In 
the  city  in  which  they  lived  he  had  served  several 
terms  as  mayor.  She  had  been  the  belle  of  the 
town.  Her  many  accomplishments  and  inno- 
cence had  won  her  many  suitors.  But  she 
spurned  them  all  for  the  love  of  her  father  and 
mother.  She  was  the  only  child  in  the  family. 
Her  every  wish  and  want  had  been  fulfilled. 

But  a  year  before  the  reporter  had  heard  that 
she  had  died.  The  papers  in  the  town  contained 
articles  at  the  time  lamenting  her  death.  Accord- 
ing to  the  stories,  she  had  been  drowned  in  Lake 
Michigan  while  sailing  in  a  yacht.  A  body  of  a 
girl  supposedly  that  of  her's  had  been  shipped 
home.     There  had  been  a  funeral. 

Since  that  time  the  father  and  mother  had 
been  disconsolate.  The  memory  of  the  daughter 
was  never  from  their  minds.  They  spent  the 
greater  part  of  the  days  at  the  side  of  the  grave 
in  the  cemetery.     After  dusk  had  fallen  they  sat 


TRAGEDIES  11 

in  the  pretty  boudoir  that  had  been  the  room  of 
their  child.  Not  a  thing  had  been  touched  in  the 
room.  The  beautiful  dresses  and  garments  that 
had  once  been  worn  by  their  daughter  still  were 
neatly  hung  in  their  places.  The  little  memen- 
toes still  lay  about  the  room.  And  in  the  dim 
light  that  radiated  from  a  fireplace  the  father 
and  mother  could  picture  the  face  of  their  daugh- 
ter, whom  they  believed  to  have  been  so  ruthless- 
ly torn  from  them  by  death. 

Quickly  recovering  from  the  shock,  the  seem- 
ing apparition  had  given  him,  the  reporter  dashed 
after  the  girl. 

She  ran  into  a  room  and  attempted  to  lock  the 
reporter  out.  He  forced  his  way  in.  As  he  did 
so,  she  fell  at  his  feet  screaming  and  pleading. 
Her  mind  seemed  to  have  suddenly  become  un- 
balanced. 

"Don't  tell  papa  and  mamma  I'm  alive,"  she 
shrieked;  "they  believe  me  to  be  dead  and  it  is 
better  so.    I'll  kill  myself  if  you  tell  them." 

The  reporter  could  scarcely  believe  that  girl 
could  be  the  same  innocent,  high-minded  child  he 
had  known  but  a  few  months  before. 

After  much  persuasion,  she  was  finally  calmed. 
She  would  not  lift  her  head  or  look  into  her  child- 
hood friend's  eyes. 

"Come  and  get  out  of  this   fearful  hole  at 


12  WHITE  SLAVE 

once,"  the  reporter  demanded,  grasping  her  by 
the  arm. 

The  crying  of  the  girl  ceased.  Her  muscles 
grew  tense  and  rigid. 

"I  will  stay  here,"  she  said  quietly;  "stay  here 
until  I  die.  No  pleadings  will  change  me.  My 
mind  has  been  made  up  for  some  time.  I'm  an 
animal  now.  The  innocent  girl  that  you  once 
knew  is  now  no  part  of  me.  I'm  all  that  is  bad 
now.    When  I  leave  this  life,  it  will  be  in  death." 

"But  your  father  and  mother  would  receive 
you  back — they  needn't  know  anything  of  this," 
pleaded  the  reporter. 

"I'm  dead  to  them  and  in  death  I  am  still  pure 
and  innocent  in  their  eyes.  They  are  happy  in 
their  belief,"  slowly  said  the  girl,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears.  She  paused  for  some  time,  a  far- 
away look  in  her  eyes. 

It  was  as  though  she  were  gazing  into  the  past 
of  but  a  short  time  before.  Her  features  as- 
sumed those  of  the  innocent  girl  she  had  been, 
then  as  she  thought  they  gradually  seemed  to 
grow  more  hardened  and  steel-like.  Finally, 
after  some  moments  she  broke  the  silence. 

"I  will  tell  you  why  I  am  here,"  she  said.  "I 
will  tell  you  why  I  will  not  go  back. 

"You  can  remember,  not  a  long  time  ago,  when 
I  was  all  that  was  good.    I  hardly  knew  the 


TRAGEDIES  13 

meaning  of  a  profane  word.  I  was  worshiped 
and  petted. 

"I  have  done  some  good  in  my  life.  It  was 
this  good  and  the  hope  to  do  even  more  that 
finally  led  to  my  ruin.  In  the  convent  where  I 
went  to  school,  we  had  been  taught  to  be  char- 
itable.   I  was  happy  in  helping  the  poor  and  sick. 

"The  fact  that  my  father  was  a  physician  gave 
me  an  inspiration.  When  I  had  reached  my 
twentieth  birthday,  I  decided  to  learn  to  be  a 
nurse,  so  that  I  might  do  more  for  the  poor.  In 
the  home  town  I  could  not  do  this.  So  I  went 
to  a  neighboring  city  and  entered  a  state  hospital. 
There  I  worked  as  a  common  apprentice  nurse 
for  ten  months.  I  did  not  receive  any  pay  for 
my  services.    I  had  plenty  of  money  anyway. 

"I  grew  to  love  one  of  the  physicians.  He  ap- 
parently loved  me  as  much.  My  life  seemed  to 
be  tied  up  in  his.  He  asked  me  to  marry  him. 
I  was  overjoyed  at  the  thought.  We  were  con- 
stantly together  and  I  was  radiantly  happy. 

"One  night,  he  made  suggestions  to  me.  He 
said  we  would  soon  be  married  and  that  in  view 
of  that,  it  would  not  be  wrong.  I  trusted  ex- 
plicitly in  him  and  believed  what  he  said.  Then 
I  fell.^ 

"It  is  useless  for  me  to  try  to  tell  you  of  the 
lies,  the  protestations  of  love,  the  excuses  and 
suggestions  he  made  that  caused  me  to  fall.    No 


14  WHITE  SLAVE 

one  could  understand  that  but  me.  No  one  could 
excuse  it  but  me. 

"A  short  time  later  I  found  that  I  was  to  be- 
come a  mother.  I  was  happy  then.  I  should 
bear  him  a  child.  I  told  him  of  this.  He  sud- 
denly grew  cold  in  his  actions.  Then  he  avoided 
me.  Disheartened  I  pleaded  for  him  to  marry 
me.  He  laughed  in  my  face  and  told  me  he  had 
never  intended  to  do  such  a  thing.  I  fainted 
under  this  torrent  of  abuse. 

"The  thought  that  I  had  been  cast  aside  nearly 
cost  me  my  reason.  I  knew  I  could  not  go  home 
in  such  a  condition.  I  had  heard  that  in  Chicago 
maternity  hospitals  were  easy  to  enter,  so  one 
night  I  packed  some  of  my  clothing  and  slipping 
away  from  the  hospital,  boarded  a  train. 

*'l  was  frightened  nearlj''  out  of  my  senses  at 
the  enormity  of  my  act.  Across  the  aisle  from 
me  in  the  railroad  coach,  sat  an  elderly  woman. 
Her  face  seemed  kindly.  After  a  few  minutes' 
ride,  she  smiled  at  me.  Then  when  I  vainly  at- 
tempted to  smile  back,  she  came  over  and  sat 
down  beside  me. 

"She  talked  very  motherly  to  me.  Soon  I  had 
told  her  my  whole  story.  She  was  very  sympa- 
thetic. She  said  she  pitied  me  in  my  trouble  and 
would  help  me.  I  clung  to  her  as  though  she 
were  a  mother.  After  we  had  talked  some  time, 
she  told  me  that  she  had  a  maiden  aunt  in  Chi- 


TRAGEDIES  15 

cago  at  whose  home  I  could  live  and  that  she 
would  see  that  I  received  proper  medical  atten- 
tion.   I  accepted  her  offer  gratefully. 

"When  we  reached  Chicago  she  assisted  me 
with  my  baggage  and  into  a  waiting  cab.  For 
some  time  we  drove  about  the  city. 

"At  last  we  arrived  at  a  big  stone  mansion.  It 
was  lighted  almost  from  top  to  bottom. 

"  *Auntie  must  be  entertaining  tonight,' 
laughed  the  woman.  'We'll  go  right  in  and  to 
our  rooms.    Xo  one  will  see  us.' 

"A  negro,  attired  in  livery,  came  out  and 
carried  our  baggage  in.  We  went  at  once  to 
rooms  on  the  upper  floor.  I  did  not  know  where 
I  was.  I  believed  what  the  elderly  woman  had 
told  me,  that  I  was  at  the  home  of  the  aunt.  It 
was  not  until  two  weeks  later  that  I  found  out 
I  was  in  this  den  of  vice,  where  I  now  am. 

"For  those  two  weeks  I  was  treated  as  well  as 
could  be  wished.  Two  elderly  women  came  often 
to  see  me  and  talked  pleasantly.  A  doctor  came 
and  attended  me  through  my  illness. 

"I  can't  make  you  understand  the  shock  that 
came  to  me  when  they  told  me  that  I  would  have 
no  baby.  The  man  and  the  two  women  had  at- 
tended to  that.  My  baby  was  dead.  There 
seemed  nothing  else  to  live  for. 

"One  morning  when  I  had  nearly  recovered, 
I  got  out  of  bed  and  went  to  the  door.    To  my 


16  WHITE  SLAVE 

dismay  I  found  that  it  was  locked  from  the  out- 
side. The  windows  were  also  locked.  When  the 
women  came  a  short  time  later  I  asked  them 
about  it.  They  merely  laughed  and  gave  me  no 
answer. 

"It  was  only  a  few  nights  later  when  I  was 
awakened  by  the  sound  of  a  man's  voice.  In  the 
darkness  I  could  see  him  standing  beside  my  bed. 
I  screamed  and  screamed  but  no  one  came.  I 
jumped  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the  door.  It  was 
securely  locked.  The  man  laughed  at  my  efforts 
to  evade  him. 

"Finally  he  pressed  a  button  on  the  wall.  Two 
women,  dressed  in  short  costumes  that  barely 
reached  to  the  knees,  came  into  the  room.  The 
man  threw  me  on  a  bed  and  the  two  women  held 
me. 

"After  that  I  was  given  something  to  eat.  In- 
stantly I  seemed  bereft  of  my  senses.  It  was  not 
until  a  week  later  that  I  became  normal  again. 
It  was  during  that  week  that  my  ruin  was  for- 
ever accomplished.  Of  what  occurred  I  have  but 
a  vague  recollection. 

"I  realized  then  that  I  could  never  retui'n  home 
again.  I  grew  morose  and  sullen  as  I  thought. 
Often  I  tried  to  force  myself  to  take  my  own  life, 
but  the  thoughts  of  my  evil  deeds  kept  me  from 
doing  so. 

"The  days  that  passed  were  Hke  the  fancies  of 


t; 


One  thousand  innocent  girls  are  lured  to  a  life  of  shame  each 

year  in  the  City  of  Chicago  alone  through  the  stage. 

(Chapter  V.,  The  Tragedy  of  The  Stage.) 


Mistaken  Gaiety — Death  lurks  near  scenes  of  revelry,  and  will 
not  "be  long  denied. 


TRAGEDIES  17 

a  disordered  mind.  Gradually  the  atmosphere, 
the  viciousness  of  it  seeped  through  me  and  took 
the  place  of  the  innocence,  the  wifely  feeling,  the 
mother  love  of  which  I  had  been  robbed.  The 
process  of  degradation,  of  evolution  into  accept- 
ing life  in  this  prison  came  about  swiftly.  I 
found  myself  accepting  this  home,  this  place 
where  I  might  exist. 

"You  know  the  verse: 

"  'Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien 
As  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen; 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  its  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace.' 

"That  describes  my  case.  The  owners  of  the 
place  gradually  extended  my  liberties.  I  remem- 
ber the  first  day  that  came  when  they  said  I  might 
go  out  alone.    They  would  trust  me  to  come  back. 

"I  had  formulated  a  plan  that  morning.  In 
the  Chicago  papers  I  had  seen  a  story  telling  of 
the  finding  of  a  girl  of  about  my  age  in  the 
waters  of  Lake  Michigan,  near  Lincoln  Park. 
She  did  not  have  a  coat  or  hat  on  and  a  portion 
of  her  other  clothing  was  missing. 

*'I  went  to  a  spot  along  the  shore,  near  where 
the  body  had  been  found.  I  took  off  my  coat  and 
hat  and  soaked  it  in  the  water.  I  left  a  small 
pocketbook  with  my  name  and  a  small  amount  of 
money  inside  the  coat  pocket.  Then  I  hurried 
back  to  this  place. 


18  WHITE  SLAVE 

"The  clothing  was  found  and  turned  over  to 
the  police.  The  name  and  address  were  also 
noted.  My  parents  were  notified.  They  came  at 
once  to  Chicago.  The  body  of  the  girl  had  been 
in  the  water  for  some  time.  They  could  not  iden- 
tify it  but  easily  identified  the  clothing. 

"The  body  was  taken  home.  I  read  of  the  ter- 
rible grief  of  my  parents  with  tearful  eyes.  I 
read  of  my  own  burial.  Often  I  knelt  and 
prayed  for  my  sorrowing  parents. 

"Then  I  knew  it  was  all  over.  To  the  world 
I  was  dead.  To  myself  my  pure  and  innocent 
life  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  I  had  forever  cut 
off  family  ties.  But  to  them  I  would  forever  be 
known  as  the  pure  child  that  they  knew  and 
loved. 

"I  have  not  associated  with  the  women  here 
any  more  than  I  had  to.  I  have  never  drank  nor 
smoked  cigarettes,  despite  their  attempts  to  force 
me  to  do  so. 

"I  have  tried  to  imagine  myself  leading  a  dif- 
ferent life.  I  have  gone  to  church  and  fancied 
myself  clothed  with  the  purity  and  innocence  of 
the  other  days.  Perhaps  I  turned  my  head  to 
look  about  me.  Perhaps  I  heard  a  smothered  ex- 
clamation not  meant  for  my  ears.  Mocking  me, 
driving  me  back  to  a  realization  of  my  degrada- 
tion, would  be  a  face — the  face  of  a  man  who  had 
come  to  the  'E Club'  in  search  of  a  vent  for 


TRAGEDIES  19 

his  beastly  desires.  He  could  do  what  I  could 
not  and  yet  be  respected.  When  I  sought  out  a 
place  of  worship,  even  he  was  ready  to  point  a 
mocking  finger,  to  leer  at  me  with  an  insulting 
smile. 

"In  the  theatres,  in  the  parks,  in  the  shopping 
districts  and  on  the  streets  of  the  city  I  have 
tried,  for  just  a  little  while,  to  imagine  myself  the 
girl  of  the  olden  days.  Always,  everywhere,  om- 
nipresent has  been  the  reminder  that  drove  me 

back  to  the  'E '  with  a  sigh  of  rehef  and  a 

sense  of  refuge.     Can  you  understand? 

"I  have  steeled  myself  to  live  this  life  because 
there  is  no  other  left  to  me. 

"I  have  hoped  and  prayed  that  I  would  not 
live  long,  that  I  would  grow  ugly  in  features  and 
a  person  whom  men  would  shun,  but  in  vain.  But 
I  know  that  sooner  or  later  my  hope  will  be  real- 
ized." 

"But  I  can  help  to  save  you.  I  can  put  you 
in  a  position  where  you  can  earn  a  respectable 
living  and  where  you  will  be  happy,"  pleaded  the 
reporter. 

For  a  time  the  girl  was  in  deep  thought.  When 
she  raised  her  head  again  her  eyes  were  wet  with 
tears. 

"I  couldn't  do  it.  I  can  never  be  anything  else 
now,"  she  said.  "Were  I  to  take  a  position,  it 
would  be  but  a  question  of  time  until  some  man 


20  WHITE  SLAVE 

who  had  seen  me  in  this  place  would  recognize 
me.  I  would  be  discharged  and  driven  into  even 
a  deeper  life  of  shame. 

"It  is  impossible  to  even  contemplate  such  a 
thing. 

"When  a  woman  falls,  she  falls  never  to  rise 
again.  The  thoughts  of  her  evil  Hfe  are  forever 
a  menace  to  her.  They  pursue  her  constantly. 
She  never  can  resume  her  former  sphere  in  life." 

"Isn't  there  anything  that  I  can  do  to  cause 
you  to  come  with  me  and  do  right?"  asked  the 
reporter. 

"There  is  nothing  that  anyone  can  do.  What 
I  am  now  I  will  always  be,"  she  replied. 

"Won't  you  at  least  meet  me  away  from  this 
awful  place  and  try  to  spend  at  least  part  of  your 
evenings  in  the  respectable  way  to  which  you 
wei'e  accustomed?"  was  asked. 

"I  will  meet  you  where  no  one  would  recog- 
nize either  you  or  I,"  was  the  reply.  "I  would 
not  disgrace  you  by  having  anyone  know  me. 

"You  will  not  meet  the  little  girl  you  knew, 
though.  Henceforth  you  must  meet  a  fallen 
woman,  a  woman  who  sells  her  flesh,  pound  by 
pound,  to  human  vultures.  You  had  best  change 
your  mind.  For  myself,  I  would  be  delighted  to 
be  with  you,  but  the  old  memories  are  painful. 
I  will  see  you  but  vou  must  never  come  here  for 
me." 


TRAGEDIES  21 

When  the  reporter  left  the  sin-cursed  place, 
there  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  To  him  it  was  as 
though  he  were  deserting  his  own  sister  to  the 
ravages  of  a  pack  of  wolves. 

Half  a  block  away  from  the  place  he  paused 
in  deep  thought.  Should  he  go  at  once  to  her 
parents  and  tell  them  of  the  finding  of  their 
daughter,  that  she  was  alive? 

He  knew  they  would  gladly  receive  her  back, 
that  any  and  all  of  her  wrongs  would  be  over- 
looked. He  thought  of  their  great  love  for  her, 
of  their  deep  grief  in  her  death. 

But  as  he  thought,  he  could  see  a  fireside  in  a 
city  but  a  few  hundred  miles  distant.  Side  by 
side  sat  a  couple.  The  man  was  a  personage 
slightly  bent,  as  though  bowed  down  with  some 
grief  in  the  middle  of  life.  The  woman's  hair  was 
tinged  with  gray.  Her  motherly  face  was  lit  by 
a  radiant  smile,  as  though  she  were  dreaming  of 
something  heavenly. 

He  could  see  them  clasp  hands  and  sit  for 
hours  dreaming  of  the  happiness  of  but  a  few 
months  before.  Then  the  father  would  rise,  and, 
walking  across  the  room,  caress  some  tiny  trin- 
ket, such  as  gladdens  the  heart  of  a  girl.  He 
would  pick  up  a  picture,  that  of  a  beautiful, 
laughing  girl,  radiant  in  the  innocence  of  the  un- 
knowing girl.  Long  he  would  gaze  at  it.  Then 
imprinting  a  kiss  on  the  face  of  the  picture,  he 


22  WHITE  SLAVE 

would  lay  it  carefully  back  in  its  place.  They 
were  happy  in  the  thought  that  their  child  was 
in  a  better  world — of  that  fact  they  had  no  doubt. 

The  reporter's  mind  was  quickly  made  up. 

"It  is  better  so,"  he  half  muttered.  "It  is  bet- 
ter so." 

Slowly  he  retraced  his  steps  past  the  den  where 
he  had  found  her.  An  automobile  had  just  come 
to  a  stop  at  the  curb.  Several  well  dressed  men, 
in  the  last  stages  of  intoxication,  staggered  from 
the  car.  Swearing  and  cursing,  they  mounted 
the  steps  of  the  house.  The  door  was  opened  to 
admit  them.  From  the  house  came  the  wild 
scream  of  a  drunken  woman  mingled  with  the 
coarser  yells  of  drunken  men. 

Then  the  door  closed. 


Ovw  PTERII. 

The  Tragedy  gv-'  the  "Want  Ad." 

In  April,  1909,  a  peculiarly  worded  advertise- 
ment appeared  in  the  personal  columns  of  the 
Chicago  Daily  News  and  the  Chicago  Tribune. 
It  was  worded  as  follows : 

Traveling  Companion:  Widow  preparing 
for  extended  tour  of  Europe  wants  to  engage 
young  lady  as  traveling  companion  and  secre- 
tary. Must  be  young,  beautiful,  fascinating  and 
accomplished.  All  expenses  and  suitable  salary. 
Z  14,  Tribune. 

The  advertisement  was  what  is  known  in  news- 
paper parlance  as  a  "blind"  or  keyed  ad.  It  did 
not  give  any  street  address,  letters  of  application 
being  sent  «»  the  newspaper  and  there  held  for 
the  advertiser. 

A  young  Chicago  girl  read  the  advertisement 
and  answered  it.  In  her  letter  of  application 
she  said  that  she  had  been  called  beautiful  by  her 
friends,  that  she  spoke  several  languages,  that 
she  was  convent  bred  and  that  she  had  previously 
traveled  extensively.  She  also  stated  her  age, 
which  was  22. 

The  girl  inclosed  her  address  in  the  letter  and 
said  that,  if  considered  favorably,  she  would  be 
pleased  to  call  upon  the  "widow." 

23 


24  WHITE  SLAVE 

The  young  Chicago  girl  was  all  that  she  de- 
clared herself  to  be.  Her  beauty  was  a  matter 
beyond  dispute.  Her  charm  of  manner  and  her 
accomplishments  were  on  a  plane  with  her  inno- 
cence and  purity. 

The  day  following  the  mailing  of  the  letter  a 
caller  was  announced  at  the  young  lady's  home. 
The  caller  was  an  elderly  woman.  She  was  dressed 
in  black.  Her  adornment  was  rich.  It  bespoke 
an  apparent  command  of  wealth.  The  woman's 
language  and  general  demeanor  was  that  of 
marked  social  standing.  She  gave  her  name  as 
"Schwartz." 

To  the  young  girl  she  made  known  the  fact 
that  she  was  the  authoress  of  the  advertisement 
which  the  young  lady  had  answered  in  the  papers. 
She  said  that  her  home  was  in  southern  Califor- 
nia. She  said  that  her  husband  had  been  a  very 
wealthy  resident  of  California  and  that  most  of 
her  life  had  been  spent  in  her  own  home.  She 
said  her  husband  had  died  a  few  months  before, 
leaving  her  alone  with  no  relatives  and  practically 
no  friends  in  the  world. 

"I  have  always  been  a  home  body,"  she  said. 
"My  life  was  wrapped  up  in  my  home  and  my 
husband.  When  he  died  there  seemed  nothing 
else  on  earth  to  live  for.  God  did  not  see  fit  to 
bless  us  with  children.     The  death  of  my  bus- 


TRAGEDIES  25 

band  left  me  prostrated.  The  first  illness  of  my 
life  came  then.  Doctors  told  me  that  unless  I 
sought  a  change  in  travel  that  I  might  drag  out 
many  long  years  alone  as  an  invalid. 

"I  have  all  the  money  I  know  what  to  do  with. 
When  the  physicians  told  me  to  leave  the  scene 
of  my  sorrows,  and  to  leave  at  once,  I  packed 
hurriedly  and  departed  from  Los  Angeles.  I 
have  had  no  time  to  think  until  I  reached  Chicago. 

"Now  that  I  am  here  I  have  realized  that  I 
must  have  a  companion  for  reasons  that  you  can 
very  easily  understand.  I  do  not  want  an  old 
person  about  me.  It  was  the  thought  of  the 
mental  diversion  that  caused  me  to  advertise  for 
a  young  and  vivacious  girl.  At  the  same  time  I 
must  have  some  one  who  knows  how  to  travel, 
how  to  attend  to  the  endless  details  that  travel 
involves.  That  is  why  your  letter  came  to  me  as 
a  godsend." 

The  widow  wiped  her  eyes  softly  with  a  bor- 
dered handkerchief.  To  the  innocent  young  girl 
she  seemed  the  picture  of  grief.  A  little  while 
was  passed  in  conversation  of  a  general  nature. 
As  the  widow  rose  to  go  she  said,  "I  like  you. 
You  seem  to  me  the  ideal  of  such  a  companion  as 
I  would  have.  The  only  question  to  be  settled 
is  whether  or  not  you  will  like  me. 

"If  you  will  come  with  me  as  my  little  daugh- 
ter I  can  assure  you  that  you  will  want  for  noth- 


26  WHITE  SLAVE 

ing.  I  will  dress  you  as  I  would  my  own  daugh- 
ter. We  shall  visit  the  world.  I  have  already 
prepared  to  engage  passage  for  Europe  and  de- 
sire to  sail  Saturday,  four  days  from  today. 

"In  order  that  you  may  satisfy  yourself  as  to 
whether  or  not  you  will  like  me  I  want  you  to 
call  at  my  hotel  tonight  and  take  dinner  with  me. 
I  am  living  at  the  Arena  hotel,  1340  Michigan 
avenue.     A  quiet,  retired  little  place." 

"I  will  be  dehghted,"  said  the  girl.  "I  don't 
think  that  there  is  any  question  as  to  whether  or 
not  I  will  lilve  you.  You  have  charmed  me  al- 
ready. I  am  alone  in  Chicago.  The  only  rela- 
tive I  have  here  is  my  brother.  He  will  be  pleased 
I  know  to  hear  that  there  is  such  a  pleasant  occu- 
pation in  store  for  me." 

The  widow  paused  in  her  going,  as  women  do. 
The  conversation  prattled  on.  The  girl  spoke  of 
her  brother  and,  before  she  knew  it,  she  was  say- 
ing: 

"I  never  take  any  steps  without  consulting  him. 
He  knows  so  much.  I  would  love  to  bring  him 
with  me  to  meet  you  tonight,  if  you  wouldn't — " 

Her  sentence  was  arrested  by  the  cloud  that 
passed  over  the  widow's  face.  It  was  a  look, 
sharp,  keen,  bitter,  hard  as  a  look  can  be.  Even 
the  girl,  unwise  as  she  was  in  the  study  of  human 
nature  and  the  ways  of  the  world,  felt  an  intuitive 
thrill  that  bordered  on  suspicion.     She  didn't 


TRAGEDIES  27 

finish  her  sentence  exactly  as  she  had  meant  to. 
Instead,  she  said:  "In  fact  my  brother  would 
hardly  let  me  go,  you  know,  without  first  meeting 
you  himself  and  talking  with  you.  You  can  un- 
derstand." 

Quickly  as  it  took  to  say  it,  the  woman  in  black 
recovered  her  self-composure.  Before  the  girl 
had  finished  she  was  all  asmile. 

"You  dear  child,"  she  said,  holding  out  her 
hand,  "I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that.  Indeed, 
I  couldn't  think  of  taking  you  away  from  him 
without  having  him  feel  certain  in  his  heart  that 
it  would  be  for  your  good.  I'd  love  to  have  him 
call  with  you  tonight.  You'll  both  dine  with  me, 
of  course.     Do  you  remember  my  address?" 

"Why,  no,  I—" 

Again  a  peculiar  look  came  over  the  widow's 
face.  This  time  it  was  not  hard,  not  sharp,  not 
of  dismay  nor  apprehension,  but  a  sly,  fox-like, 
satisfied  smile  that  the  girl  afterwards  remem- 
bered and  understood. 

"I'll  just  write  it  down  for  you,"  said  the  wid- 
ow. "I'll  give  you  the  street  number,  too,  so 
that  you  won't  forget.  Pardon  me,  I  haven't  a 
card." 

The  girl  produced  a  slip  of  paper  and  a  lead 
pencil.     On  the  card  the  widow  wrote : 

"HOTEL  IROQUOIS,  3035  Michigan  ave- 
nue." 


28  WHITE  SLAVE 

And  then  Mrs.  Schwartz  departed. 

When  the  girl's  brother  arrived  at  home  an 
hour  or  so  later  he  found  a  sister  bounding  with 
joy,  bubbling  with  excess  of  spirits. 

The  brother  was  a  man  of  the  world.  He  knew, 
as  a  cosmopolitan  must  know,  of  the  guile  and 
trickery  and  fraud  and  deceit  that  a  great  city 
contains.  Yet,  when  the  girl  told  him  the  story 
of  the  California  widow  and  her  desire  to  hire 
a  traveling  companion  at  an  enormous  salary, 
he  doubted  it  not.  His  spirits  were  equally  as 
high  as  his  little  sister's  when  he  dressed  for 
the  trip  to  the  Iroquois  hotel.  It  was  a  smiling 
young  couple  that  tripped  into  the  lobby  of  the 
hotel  an  hour  or  so  later  and  asked  the  clerk  to 
notify  Mrs.  Schwartz  that  her  guests  were  await- 
ing her  pleasure. 

"Schwartz?"  said  the  clerk,  as  he  glanced  over 
the  room  book  a  second  time.  "No  such  person 
of  that  name  here.  Sure  you  got  the  name  right?" 

The  girl  produced  the  sHp  of  paper  in  the  wid- 
ow's own  handwriting: 

"Margaret  Schwartz, 
Iroquois  hotel,  3035  Michigan  avenue." 

"Maybe  we've  transcribed  the  name  wrong 
from  the  register,"  said  the  clerk.  "Wliere  is  she 
from?" 

"Los  Angeles,  California,"  said  the  girl. 


TRAGEDIES  29 

"Nobody  been  here  from  Los  Angeles  since 
December,  when  we  put  in  this  new  register," 
said  the  clerk  after  running  over  the  pages. 

The  tears  that  came  to  the  young  girl's  eyes 
were  tears  of  mortification,  of  bitter  dismay.  Her 
only  thought  was  that  she  had  been  made  the  vic- 
tim of  some  peculiar  person's  idea  of  a  practical 
joke.  It  was  not  until  the  two  were  back  in 
their  own  apartments  that  the  girl  remembered 
vaguely  the  conversation  of  the  widow  and  the 
woman's  peculiar  starts. 

"Charlie,"  she  said  to  her  brother,  "that  woman 
told  me  a  different  hotel  at  first.  It  was  the 
Aree — ,  Ai*een — ,  the  Arena  hotel,  that  she  told 
me  first.  She  asked  me  to  go  there  first.  She 
CHANGED  THE  NAME  WHEN  I  TOLD 
HER  I  WOULD  BRING  YOU  WITH 
ME!" 

"Hell!"  said  the  brother.  And  there  was  a 
look  on  his  face  such  as  Cain  must  have  worn 
when  he  committed  the  first  murder. 

"Why?"  you  ask,  in  astonishment.  The  an- 
swer is  to  be  found  on  the  police  blotters  of  the 
Harrison  street  station. 

The  Arena  hotel,  at  Thirteenth  and  Michigan, 
is  the  most  notorious,  the  most  terrible  assigna- 
tion house  in  the  city  of  Chicago.  When  honest 
men  are  in  bed  the  red  lights  of  the  Arena  glare 
onto  the  boulevard  like  the  bloodshot  eyes  of  a 


30  WHITE  SLAVE 

devouring  dragon.  The  gilded  sons  of  fortune 
tear  up  before  its  yawning  doors  in  their  high 
powered  motor  cars.  The  keys  to  the  doors  were 
thrown  away  long  ago.  Without  it  is  dismal 
and  somber.  Within  it  is  pallid  with  the  erotic 
gleam  of  many  incandescents.  Its  music  is  the 
popping  of  champagne  corks,  the  laughter  of 
wine  debauched  women,  the  raucous  roars  of  the 
huntsmen — huntsmen  whose  sole  sport  is  the 
slaughter  of  the  innocent,  whose  only  game  is  the 
chastity  of  the  maiden.  A  ten  dollar  bill  is  nec- 
essary for  the  purchase  of  the  meanest  private 
dining  room  in  the  Arena  for  a  night  of  revelry. 
There  is  not  a  private  dining  room  in  the  place 
without  a  bedroom  in  comfortable  proximity. 

The  hoi  poUoi,  the  common  herd,  is  not  admit- 
ted at  the  Arena.  To  enter  there  you  must  be 
known,  and  you  must  be  known  as  a  spender. 

The  price  of  food  is  treble  that  of  any  other 
place.  The  cost  of  liquors  is  double  that  of  many. 
The  Arena  is  the  sporting  ground  of  the  rich. 
And  sport  in  the  Arena  comes  high. 

The  brother  of  the  young  girl  in  question  de- 
termined to  probe  the  widow  and  her  mystery  to 
the  bottom.  He  determined,  in  the  first  place, 
to  give  her  the  benefit  of  doubt  despite  his  own 
convictions.  He  went  to  a  telephone  and  called 
the  Arena  hotel.  He  asked  for  "JMrs.  S'^hwartz." 
A  woman  answered  the  call. 


TRAGEDIES  31 

"This  Is  Mr. ,"  he  said.     "I  believe  you 

called  upon  my  sister  today." 

"What  is  that?"  the  woman's  voice  answered. 
"Who  are  you?  You  must  be  mistaken.  Who 
do  you  think  you  are  talking  to?" 

"Mrs.  Schwartz,  isn't  it?" 

There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation.  The  man 
imagined  it  a  moment  of  confusion.  And  then 
the  voice  answered:  "Oh,  no,  this  is  Miss  Gartz. 
You  are  talking  to  the  wrong  person."  A  mock- 
ing laugh  and  a  click  of  the  receiver  announced 
to  the  man  that  he  had  been  rung  off. 

He  called  up  the  Arena  again.  He  asked  for 
Mrs.  Schwartz.  He  was  told  that  there  was  no 
such  person  there.  He  asked  the  clerk  for  Miss 
Gartz  again.  The  man  was  sorry,  but  Miss 
Gartz  had  just  left.  Repeated  telephone  calls 
for  both  Mrs.  Schwartz  and  Miss  Gartz  were  an- 
swered in  succeeding  days  with  the  information 
that  there  were  no  such  persons  there.  Miss  Gartz 
was  not  on  the  hotel  register.  Neither  was  Mrs. 
Schwartz. 

The  brother  of  the  young  Chicago  girl  went  to 
the  offices  of  the  Chicago  Tribune  and  the  Daily 
News  and  asked  for  the  name  of  the  woman  who 
inserted  the  "Traveling  Companion"  advertise- 
ment. He  was  told  that  the  papers  were  sorry, 
but  that  would  be  impossible.  The  clerks  who 
had  charge  of  the  want  ads  were  under  bonds  to 


32  WHITE  SLAVE 

divulge  no  information  regarding  blind  adver- 
tisements. They  could  not  tell  who  inserted 
them,  anyway,  as  no  names  were  taken.  The 
letters  when  received  by  the  newspapers  were 
held  until  the  advertisers  called  for  them.  The 
newspapers  could  not  maintain  the  integrity  of 
their  advertising  columns  if  they  asked  imperti- 
nent questions  of  every  advertiser. 

The  newspaper  men  were  soriy.  No  one  re- 
gretted the  creeping  into  their  columns  of  such 
matter  so  much  as  they.  Both  papers  employed 
detectives  to  scrutinize  the  want  columns  and  to 
hunt  down  and  expurgate  such  advertising  if  the 
least  possible  suspicion  was  attached  to  it,  but 
many  want  ads  were  so  cleverly  and  innocently 
worded  that  they  would  creep  in  despite  every 
possible  precaution  that  might  be  taken. 

The  young  man  employed  detectives  himself. 
He  went  to  a  large  agency  and  told  the  manager 
the  circumstances.  Hardened  as  he  was  through 
constant  association  with  crime  and  its  varied 
phases,  the  manager  of  the  agency  winced  when 
the  story  was  finished. 

*'You've  saved  your  sister  from  a  living  hell," 
said  the  crime  expert.  "You've  saved  her  from 
the  most  terrible  spider  that  ever  wove  a  net  for 
the  accomplishment  of  ruin.  *Mrs.  Schwartz' 
the  widow,  is  a  procuress — the  most  clever  and 
fiendish  procuress  known  to  us.     She  works  un- 


TRAGEDIES  33 

der  a  hundred  aliases.  So  keen  is  she,  so  clever 
in  her  plots  to  bring  about  the  ruin  of  young 
girls,  that  we  can  not  cope  with  her.  She  is  a 
rich  woman.  Every  dollar  that  she  has  made 
represents  a  soul  blackened,  an  innocent  meta- 
morphosed into  a  drug  sotted,  degraded  creature 
of  the  red  lights. 

"Your  sister  is  not  the  only  girl  that  advertise- 
ment was  meant  for.  It  probably  has  already 
written  the  ruin  of  a  score  of  beautiful  young 
innocents.  It  was  a  lure.  A  lure  only.  There 
was  no  trip  to  Europe.  There  was  no  trip 
planned  to  any  place  except  a  house  in  Twenty- 
second  street  or  the  private  chambers  of  some 
wealthy  libertine. 

"Mrs.  Schwartz  must  have  received  many  hun- 
dred answers  to  that  advertisement  from  young 
girls  all  over  the  city — even  out  of  the  city.  The 
glamour  of  a  trip  to  Europe,  a  salary  to  tour  the 
world,  would  turn  any  young  girl's  head.  The 
wording  of  the  advertisement  would  arouse  no 
fears  or  suspicions  in  the  mind  of  even  a  worldly 
wise  person. 

"When  Mrs.  Schwartz  called  upon  your  sister 
and  proposed  that  she  take  dinner  with  her  at  her 
hotel  she  wanted  the  girl  to  go  alone.  When  the 
girl  accepted,  Mrs.  Schwartz  named  the  Arena 
because  she  could  accomplish  her  purpose  there. 
It  was  the  after-thought  of  the  girl's  that  saved 


34  WHITE  SLAVE 

her  and  covered  Mrs.  Schwartz  with  cc«ifusion. 
She  wrote  down  the  name  of  the  Hotel  Iroquois 
for  the  express  purpose  of  destroying  the  recol- 
lection of  the  Arena  in  the  girl's  mind.  The  Ho- 
tel Iroquois  is  a  quiet  family  hotel  of  good  repu- 
tation. 

"Mrs.  Schwartz,  as  she  calls  herself,  knew  that 
the  game  was  up  when  your  sister  mentioned  you. 
Daring  and  bold  as  she  is,  she  knows  better  than 
to  try  her  wits  with  a  man. 

"Had  the  girl  accepted  the  invitation  without 
mentioning  your  name  the  stage  would  have  been 
set  for  her  reception  at  the  Arena.  I  doubt  if 
the  proprietors  of  the  place  would  have  known 
anything  about  this.  The  Arena  is  an  assigna- 
tion house,  not  a  brothel.  Had  the  girl  gone  to 
the  Arena  alone  she  would  have  been  sent  to  the 
apartments  which  Mrs.  Schwartz  would  have 
taken  for  her  reception.  She  would  have  been 
plied  with  flattery,  smothered  with  blandishments. 
Her  little  head  would  have  been  turned  with  com- 
pliments. At  the  psychological  instant  dinner 
would  have  been  served.  Dinner  would  include 
wine.  Did  the  girl  refuse  to  touch  wine  despite 
the  subtle  invitations  and  arts  of  the  widow,  her 
food  and  her  water  would  have  been  'doctored.' 

"Mrs.  Schwartz  is  an  adept  in  the  gentle  art  of 
administering  drugs.  In  less  than  an  hour  the 
innocent  child  would  have  been  in  the  throes  of 


i 


TRAGEDIES  35 

delirium,  wild,  drunk,  robbed  of  her  morality 
through  the  insidiousness  of  the  widow's  dope. 

Then  the  man  would  have  been  introduced. 
The  scene  would  have  changed  from  the  little 
private  dining  room  to  the  adjoining  bedroom." 

The  young  man  shuddered,  and  shut  his  eyes 
as  if  to  close  out  the  picture.  The  big  detective 
went  on,  mercilessly: 

"The  widow  Schwartz  and  her  male  accomplice 
would  have  rejoiced  in  their  triumph  as  the  drug- 
ged innocent  was  robbed  of  her  chastity. 

"Give  the  widow  Schwartz  two  hours  and  the 
end  would  have  been  written.  Then  to  call  a  cab, 
carry  the  unconscious  child  out  of  the  Arena, 
bundle  her  off  to  the  market  place  and  sell  her  for 
one  hundred — two  hundred — five  hundred — " 

"Stop!"  said  the  young  man. 

After  an  interval  he  said,  "I  put  my  posses- 
sions, such  as  they  are,  at  your  disposal.  I  want 
you  to  trap  this  woman.  I  want  you  to  catch 
her.     Surely  you  can — " 

"Catch  her?  Maybe.  We'U  try."  The  de- 
tective pressed  a  button. 

"Send  in  Miss  B ,"  he  said. 

A  young  woman  returned  with  the  messenger. 
She  did  not  look  like  a  detective.  A  young  girl 
she  was,  of  good  figure,  of  pleasant  couiffe^ianee. 
Her  eyes  were  large  and  striking.  The  detective 


36  WHITE  SLAVE 

held  out  a  copy  of  the  "Traveling  Companion" 
want  ad  for  her  perusal. 

"Miss  B /'  he  said,  "the  woman  who  in- 
serted that  advertisement  is  a  procuress.  The 
ad  is  a  lure.  Will  you  be  willing  to  take  this 
case?  If  so,  I  want  you  to  write  an  answer  on 
delicate  stationery.  Give  your  address  as  your 
home.  Say  that  you  are  'convent  bred,'  beauti- 
ful, alone  in  the  world  through  a  tragedy  that 
wiped  out  both  your  relatives  and  your  fortune, 
that  you  are  young,  talented,  a  mistress  of  repar- 
tee, anything  that  wiU  tantalize  that  woman  and 
convince  her.  Then,  if  the  trout  takes  the  fly, 
you  will  have  to  go  to  this  woman's  apartments 
alone,  let  her  drug  you  and  trust  to  us  to  be  on 
hand  for  the  climax.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  take 
this  case  unless  it  is  of  your  own  volition." 

The  girl  hesitated.  When  she  answered  it  was 
to  say  that  she  would  not  only  take  it,  but,  were 
it  necessary,  she  would  take  it  without  pay. 

"I  will  inclose  my  photograph  with  the  letter," 
she  said.  "My  photographs  make  me  appear  far 
more  beautiful  than  I  really  am." 

Both  letter  and  photograph  were  mailed.  To 
make  sure  as  to  whether  or  not  it  was  too  late  the 
detectives  called  up  the  newspapers  and  were  told 
that  the  advertisement  was  "paid  in  advance  to 
run  until  Saturday." 

The  letter,  a  cunningly  and  alluringly  worded 


TRAGEDIES  37 

missive,  was  mailed  to  the  newspaper  office.  The 
photograph,  which  betokened  a  ravishing  little 
beauty,  was  inclosed.  Shadow  men  were  posted 
at  the  newspaper  offices  to  follow  the  woman 
when  she  called  for  her  mail. 

Wednesday  passed.  Thursday,  Friday  and 
Sunday  came  with  no  response.  At  the  news- 
paper offices  the  publishers  said  there  were  more 
than  200  letters  awaiting  the  pleasure  of  the 
woman  who  wanted  a  "traveling  companion." 
Yet  the  advertiser  neglected  to  call  for  her  mail. 

When  convinced  that  there  would  be  no  answer 
the  woman  operator  went  to  the  Arena  to  call 
for  Mrs.  Schwartz.  She  was  told  that  there  was 
no  such  person  there. 

The  wary  old  spider,  bold  enough  when  ma- 
neuvering the  enslavement  of  innocent  girls,  had 
fled  to  cover  at  the  first  alarm. 

"We'll  have  to  give  it  up,"  said  the  detective 
to  the  young  man.  "She's  skipped  to  different 
quarters.  She's  scheming  out  some  new  bait. 
Schwartz  her  real  name?  She  probably  has  a 
thousand  names.  A  different  alias  for  every  girl 
she  marks  as  a  victim." 

Do  you  want  to  investigate  this  story  for  your- 
self? Do  you  want  corroborative  evidence?  The 
writer  of  this  book  has  affidavits  from  the  princi- 
pals as  to  its  truth.  The  want  columns  of  any 
great  metropolitan  daily  will  supply  material  for 


38  WHITE  SLAVE 

your  investigations.  Look  for  the  "chorus  girls 
wanted"  ads.  Look  for  the  "roommates"  ads. 
Peruse  the  personal  advertisements.  Look 
through  the  column  headed  "Wanted,  Female 
Help,  Miscellaneous."  Once  in  a  while  you'll 
read  an  innocent  little  paragraph  that  is  sending 
young  virgins  to  the  slaughter  pens  and  the  slave 
marts.  Mrs.  Schwartz  is  not  the  only  woman  in 
the  business. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Assignation  House. 

Her  name  can  be  read  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
away  from  the  big  electric  signs  in  front  of  a 
Broadway  theater  today.  A  year  ago  it  was 
emblazoned  from  the  signboards  of  a  Chicago 
amusement  place.  A  few  years  before  that  it 
was  hardly  known  outside  the  little  Springfield 
cottage  of  the  maiden  lady  with  whom  she  made 
her  home.  Truth  to  tell,  she  doesn't  know  her 
real  name,  and  the  title  she  goes  by  as  a  theat- 
rical star  is  the  only  one  she  has.  For  she  is  an 
orphan  girl  and  she  was  taken  to  rear  by  the  two 
elderly  maiden  ladies  in  Springfield,  Illinois, 
when  she  was  a  cooing,  gob-gobbing  baby  in  an 
orphan  asylum.  But  that,  as  Kipling  says,  has 
nothing  to  do  with  this  narrative. 

If  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  enjoy  the  hos- 
pitality of  her  dressing-room,  between  the  acts, 
you  will  notice  the  loving  tones  she  uses  in  ad- 
dressing her  maid.  An  oldish  woman  is  the  maid, 
whose  face  betokens  fading  beauty,  whose  supple 
limbs  echo  of  some  stage  experience  of  bygone 
days. 

And  if  you  are  of  that  rare  type  that  begets 

39 


40  WHITE  SLAVE 

ready  confidence  the  maid  will  tell  you  the  story 
as  it  is  set  down  here: 

"Yes,  I  was  a  show  girl  myself,"  says  the  maid, 
"and  I  wasn't  any  ham-fatter,  either,  although 
I'm  broken  down  now  and  worth  nothing  save  as 
a  mother  to  'Madge/  I  lost  my  ambition  long 
ago.  I  haven't  any  now  save  to  see  my  mistress 
the  greatest  leading  lady  in  the  land,  which  she 
will  be  if  the  gracious  Master  of  our  destinies 
spares  her  long  enough. 

"It's  strange  how  the  fates  threw  us  together. 
You  may  have  wondered  why  she  treats  me  like  a 
sister  actress  and  an  equal,  and  why  I  never  say, 
'Yes,  ma'am,'  and,  'No,  ma'am,'  to  her.  But 
God's  good  to  me  and  He  put  it  in  my  way  to 
bring  her  to  what  she  is  today  instead  of  being 
one  of  those  poor  beings  what's  referred  to  as 
'white  slaves'  in  the  papers,  bless  your  soul. 

"She  ain't  been  on  the  stage  long.  But  she's 
made  good  use  of  every  hour  since  she's  been  in 
the  business.  She  ain't  at  all  like  these  lobster- 
loving,  champagne-sipping  ones  you  read  about. 
Not  a  bit  of  it.     See  them  pictures?" 

The  maid  pointed  to  a  group  of  photographs 
hanging  'round  the  room.  Remarkable  they 
were,  in  that  every  picture  bore  the  shining  face 
of  a  Madonna,  a  mother  and  a  babe. 

"That's  the  kind  of  a  girl  Madge  is.  Loves 
babies,  dreams  about  'em,  has  but  one  ideal,  and 


TRAGEDIES  41 

that  to  have  a  little  home  of  her  own  and  a  group 
of  prattlers.  She'll  have  'em,  too,  and  she'll  quit 
this  business  if  she  ever  finds  a  man  in  this  world 
good  enough  for  her,  which  there  ain't. 

"Lord  bless  me,  how  it  was  I  found  her.  She 
didn't  know  anything  outside  of  Springfield  and 
the  legislature  and  'Uncle  Dave,'  who  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  senate,  or  something,  and  who  boarded 
with  the  maiden  ladies  when  the  legislature  sat. 
Uncle  Dave  was  called  uncle  diiefly  because  he 
wasn't.  He  was  a  big,  fat  man  with  a  hollow 
talk  like  yelling  in  a  rain  barrel  and  a  laugh  that 
shook  his  balloon  style  figure  like  a  dish  of  jelly. 
Seemed  to  be  a  pretty  fine  specimen  of  an  old 
gentleman.  Used  to  play  with  Madge  and  tease 
her  and  chuck  her  under  the  chin  and  give  her  the 
kind  of  advice  you  read  about  in  the  Old  Wom- 
an's Journal. 

"So  when  the  day  came  that  the  stock  invest- 
ments the  old  ladies  had  made  went  bust  and  the 
two  dears  cried  and  Madge  made  'em  'fess  up 
that  there  wasn't  enough  to  feed  three  mouths 
now,  not  to  speak  of  two,  Madge  just  up  and 
told  'em  that  she  was  coming  to  Chicago  to  earn 
her  own  living.  She  wasn't  going  to  be  any  bur- 
den. And  she  done  it.  She  started  instanter. 
Uncle  Dave  said  he'd  look  out  for  her — he  lives 
in  Chicago.  And,  sure  enough,  he  was  there  to 
meet  her  at  the  train  when  it  reached  the  depot. 


42  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Madge,  the  little  dear,  didn't  know  enough  to 
ask  a  policeman.  She  wouldn't  have  known  what 
to  do  if  it  wasn't  for  Uncle  Dave.  He  just  bun- 
dled her  into  a  cab  and  gave  an  order  and  then  he 
told  her  that  he  was  taking  her  to  a  nice  place  at 
his  hotel  which  he  had  fixed  up  for  her.  And  he 
took  her  to  a  place  on  Wabash  avenue  and  he 
ordered  something  that  was  brought  up  by  a 
nigger.  And  he  told  her  to  drink  it — she  who 
didn't  know  whisky  or  dope  from  lemon  pop. 

"And  then  the  old  bugger  sits  right  down  and 
says  they  must  write  a  letter  to  Madge's  aunts 
and  tell  them  how  nice  she  is  fixed  and  how  they 
mustn't  worry  about  her  being  'lost  in  the  great 
city,'  or  words  to  that  effect.  And  Uncle  Dave 
puts  in  something  about  getting  her  a  nice  posi- 
tion which  will  keep  her  very  busy  and  they 
mustn't  worry  if  she  doesn't  write  every  day. 

"He  goes  out  to  mail  the  letter,  and  Madge 
lies  down,  because  her  head  gets  dizzy.  And 
when  she  wakes  up  it's  dark  and  she  feels  so 
funny.  Then  the  little  dear  remembers  that 
she's  got  to  be  brave  and  mustn't  get  lonely  or 
homesick,  even  if  the  beautiful  big  room  she's  got 
doesn't  seem  so  snug  and  cozy  as  her  little  dormer 
bedroom  under  the  roof  in  the  cottage  at  home. 

"So  she  lets  down  her  beautiful  golden  hair 
and  starts  to  sing.  And  me,  what's  been  an  old 
sport  and  no  good  to  nobody,  myself  included 


TRAGEDIES  43 

most  of  all,  is  in  that  same  hotel.  I'm  not  mak- 
ing any  excuses  for  my  presence.  But  when  I 
hears  that  golden  voice  floating  through  the  cor- 
ridors of  that  den  of  iniquity  I  just  ups  and 
chokes  plumb  up,  and  not  thinkin'  of  the  pro- 
prieties or  anything  else,  I  just  beats  it  to  that 
door  and  looks  for  the  owner  of  the  voice. 

"And  when  I  sees  that  beautiful  baby  girl,  her 
red  hair  hanging  to  the  floor,  her  big  eyes  lookin' 
at  me  so  innocent-Hke,  I  ups  and  puts  it  to  her 
straight. 

"  'F'r  God's  sake,'  says  I,  'child,  what  are  you 
doing  here?' 

"  *Minding  my  own  business.'  she  should  have 
said.  But  she  ain't  got  that  kind  of  a  heart  in 
her.  Instead  she  ups  and  tells  me  in  the  most 
innocent  way  about  Uncle  Dave  and  Springfield 
and  the  two  maiden  aunts  what  weren't  aunts  at 
all,  but  just  foster  mothers  to  one  child.  And 
she  tells  me  how  Uncle  Dave  has  brought  her  to 
this  lovely  place  to  Hve  and  is  going  to  get  her  a 
job. 

"  *  Job,  hell,'  I  busts  out,  and  she  blushes  and 

looks  scared.  Don't  you  know  this  is  the 

hotel,  the  most  terrible  assignation  house  in 
this  big,  rotten  old  burg,  where  other  girls  like 
you,  Margaret  Burkle,  for  instance,  were  taken 
by  designing  old  villains,  kidnapped,  enslaved 
and  robbed  of  their  virtue  and  their  innocence?' 


44  WHITE  SLAVE 

"At  that  she  looks  bewildered,  as  if  she  don't 
understand,  and  I  didn't  have  the  nerve  to  draw 
a  map  for  her,  knowin'  as  I  did  that  I  might  have 
a  mess  of  lively  young  hysteria  on  my  hands.  But 
I  just  puts  my  hand  on  her  head  and  tells  her  to 
'Never  mind,'  and  then  I  sUps  out  and  shuts  the 
door. 

"I  calls  a  bellboy  who  has  got  some  money  in 
tips  for  drinks  and  other  things  from  my  room 
and  I  asks  him  to  slip  down  to  the  office  and  see 
who's  registered  for  room  346.  I  knew  I  couldn't 
find  out,  as  the  foxy  proprietors  of  this  rotten  old 
dump  don't  keep  a  regular  book  register,  but  a 
card  index,  so  that  they  can  tear  up  a  card  easy 
and  destroy  it  in  case  any  angry  husband  or  irate 
wife  tries  to  drag  them  into  the  divorce  courts 
with  evidence. 

"The  boy  beats  it  downstairs  and  comes  back 
in  double  quick  time,  owin'  possibly  to  some  ex- 
tent to  the  big  four  bit  piece  I  slipped  into  his 
hand.  I  waits  for  him  to  say  something,  and 
when  he  said  it  I  wouldn't  have  had  to  ask  him, 
for  I  knew  it  in  advance. 

"  *It's  John  Brown  and  wife,'  he  tells  me,  wink- 
in'  solemn  and  wise-like. 

"  'That'U  do  for  you,'  I  tells  him.  Then  I 
don't  waste  no  time,  but  jump  into  my  clothes 
and  beat  it  for  that  little  girl  with  the  auburn 
hair. 


TRAGEDIES  45 

"  'You  come  with  me — pack  up  an'  git,'  I  tells 
her. 

"  'Why,  what,  but  Uncle  Dave—' 

"  'T'ell  with  Uncle  Dave,'  says  I,  not  feeling 
sanctimonious;  'hustle  up  now.' 

"The  little  dear  looks  kind  of  bewildered,  but 
I'm  feelin'  so  proud  and  bully  in  my  heart  to  see 
that  she's  trustin'  me  and  doin'  as  I  say.  I  bun- 
dles her  out  of  the  dump  fast  as  I  can  do  it  and 
just  as  we  reaches  the  door  up  rushes  a  big,  fat, 
apoplectic  old  Santy  Claus  and  blusters: 

"  'Here,  you,  where  you  going  with  that  girl?' 

"  'Say,  you  cradle  robbing  old  pork  barrel, 
back  stage  for  you  in  a  hurry  or  I'll  sic  the  dangle 
wagon  onto  you.  Skidoo  now  and  no  back  talk, 
or  I'll  read  about  you  in  the  morning  papers  with 
great  eclat,'  I  says. 

"He  does  a  little  Swiss  yodle  or  something 
back  in  his  throat  and  then  he  notices  a  big  boy 
in  a  blue  suit  swingin'  a  piece  of  mahogany  com- 
in'  our  way  and  he  don't  stop  to  tip  his  hat. 

"The  little  dear  don't  understand  it  all,  but 
she's  bright,  if  unsophisticated,  and  I  could  have 
just  hugged  her  right  there  on  the  street  for 
trusting  me  in  comparison  to  him,  as  smug  and 
sleek  as  Father  O'Hara,  though  that's  as  far  as 
the  comparison  goes. 

"I  takes  the  little  darling  over  to  the  North 
Side  with  me  to  the  home  of  a  fine  little  actor  and 


46  WHITE  SLAVE 

his  wife,  who  are  more  for  real  home  than  they 
are  for  the  gay  hfe.  And  they  don't  ask  no 
questions,  but  just  take  her  right  in  to  their 
hearthside. 

"Little  Madge  was  too  proud  for  them, 
though,  even  if  she  had  been  an  orphan  and  al- 
lowed herself  to  be  given  a  home  when  she  was 
too  small  to  work  and  didn't  know  how  to  beg, 
much  less  spurn  any  charity. 

"She  goes  out  every  day  to  look  for  work.  She 
don't  find  anybody  that  wants  to  hire  a  girl  in  a 
made-over  alpaca  and  clodhopper  shoes,  though 
her  form  and  figure  is  something  you  don't  see 
in  them  automobiles  that  whizz  up  and  down  on 
the  boulevards. 

"She  tries  to  get  into  a  show  company,  being 
of  that  temperament  and  having  a  real  voice,  and 
she  has  some  narrow  escapes  from  bumping  up 
against  fake  booking  agencies  that  would  have 
sold  her  into  the  same  kind  of  a  gilded  palace  of 
sin  Uncle  Dave  had  cooked  up  for  her. 

"One  day,  when  she's  walking  on  State  street, 
so  shoddy  that  her  little  bare  feet  are  touching 
the  pavement  through  the  holes  in  her  soles,  she 
sees  a  big  sign  and  the  wigs  in  the  windows  of 
Burnham's  hair  store. 

"She  goes  in  there.  A  clerk  steps  up  to  her, 
kind  of  smart-like,  and  she  almost  bowls  him  over. 
She  just  reached  up,  pulls  out  a  couple  of  pins, 


TRAGEDIES  47 

takes  off  her  hat  and  down  drops  a  regular  Ni- 
agara of  Titian  tinted  tresses. 

"  'How  much  for  this?'  she  asks  him. 

"He  just  gasps  and  goes  back  to  tell  it  all  to 
Mr.  Burnham,  and  that  individual  comes  out  and 
dickers  with  her  right  then  and  there  for  the  pur- 
chase of  her  crown  of  glory. 

"She  got  sixteen  dollars  an  oimce — a  big,  fat 
bank  roll.  She  reinvests  some  of  it  for  enough 
false  hair  to  make  her  look  all  right  and  then  she 
goes  over  to  one  of  the  big  stores  and  buys  the 
kind  of  clothes  that  nobody  knows  how  to  wear 
like  her. 

"It's  the  most  stunning  little  beauty  in  the 
world  that  comes  home  that  night.  With  her 
clothes  and  her  beauty  she  don't  have  no  trouble 
at  all  to  make  an  engagement.  Those  two  maid- 
en aunts  art  living  in  a  little  bungalow  that  she's 
built  for  them  out  in  a  suburb  of  Chicago  today, 
and  me — I'm  on  the  job  right  here  just  as  you 
see  me. 

"Uncle  Dave?  He  turned  up — not  so  many 
days  ago.  And  he  has  the  pneumogastric  to  try 
to  chuckle  her  under  the  chin  just  like  he  used  to 
in  Springfield.     And  she  don't  say  a  word. 

"She  just  turns  white  as  a  bit  of  powdered 
chalk.  I  catches  her  as  she  keels  over.  I  holds 
her  with  one  hand.  With  the  other  I  sticks  a 
hatpin  into  Uncle  Dave  where  it  will  do  the  most 
good."  ^ 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Immigrant  Girl. 

In  the  musty  old  records  of  United  States  Dis- 
trict Attorney  Edwin  W.  Sims,  in  the  federal 
building,  is  written  the  story  of  the  tragedy  of  a 
little  Italian  peasant  girl. 

The  story  is  similar  in  many  details  to  the  sto- 
ries told  to  Mr.  Sims  and  his  assistant,  Harry 
Parkin,  by  more  than  200  black-haired,  sloe-eyed 
beauties  from  sunny  Italy.  They  had  all  been 
imported,  brought  through  the  underground  rail- 
road of  the  white  slaver,  over  the  Canadian  bor- 
der, down  the  St.  Claire  river,  through  the  great 
lakes  and  into  Chicago. 

Whether  these  himters  of  the  innocent  ply 
their  awful  calling  at  home  or  abroad,  their  meth- 
ods are  much  the  same — with  the  exception  that 
the  foreign  girl  is  more  hopelessly  at  their  mercy. 

The  story  of  the  tragedy  of  this  little  Italian 
peasant  girl,  who  helped  her  father  till  the  soil 
in  the  vineyards  and  fields  near  Naples,  is  but  one 
of  many  of  similar  character,  but  it  is  expressive. 
She  was  a  beautiful  little  creature.  Her  form 
was  that  of  a  Venus — her  great  mass  of  black 
hair  hung  in  a  dense  cloud  from  her  shapely  head. 
One  might  picture  her,  before  she  was  enticed 
into  the  terrible  life  of  shame,  as  a  little  queen 
among  the  women  of  her  race. 

48 


TRAGEDIES  49 

Yet  when  she  was  brought  into  the  district  at- 
torney's office,  having  been  one  of  a  number  of 
ahens  captured  in  a  raid  by  federal  authorities 
on  immoral  dives  in  South  Chicago,  she  was  a 
mass  of  scars.  Her  eyes  had  lost  their  deep  ex- 
pressive quality.  Her  nerves  seemed  to  be 
wrecked. 

When  she  was  brought  into  what  the  sensa- 
tional newspapers  would  call  the  "sweat  box"  it 
was  clear  that  she  was  in  a  state  of  abject  terror. 
She  stoutly  maintained  that  she  had  been  in  this 
country  for  more  than  three  years  and  that  she 
was  in  a  life  of  shame  from  choice  and  not 
through  the  criminal  act  of  any  person. 

She  attempted  to  tell  how  she  had  come  to 
this  country  alone,  but  was  unable  to  tell  the 
name  of  the  steamship  on  which  she  had  crossed 
the  ocean  or  how  she  had  reached  Chicago.  In 
broken  Enghsh  she  said  that  she  had  been  in  a 
house  of  ill  repute  in  New  York  before  coming 
to  Chicago  and  that  she  had  received  the  scars 
on  her  face  through  an  old  injury  that  had  hap- 
pened years  before. 

Assistant  District  Attorney  Parkin,  however, 
was  not  convinced.  He  asked  her  several  ques- 
tions in  quick  succession.  To  all  of  them  she 
quickly  answered  "three  years." 


50  WHITE  SLAVE 

This  is  the  length  of  time  immigrants  must  be 
in  this  country  before  they  may  be  picked  up  and 
deported  as  ahens. 

It  was  this  answer  that  convinced  him  that  the 
girl  had  been  cowed  into  submission  and 
"schooled"  by  her  procurers  under  threats.  It 
was  through  this  answer  that  the  white  slavers 
rested  their  hope  that  the  girl's  story  would  be 
believed  and  that  they  would  be  safe  from  crim- 
inal prosecution. 

Soon,  however,  the  assistant  district  attorney 
convinced  her  that  he  and  his  associates  were  her 
friends  and  protectors  and  that  their  purpose 
was  to  punish  those  who  had  profited  by  her  ruin 
and  to  send  her  back  to  her  Italian  home  with  all 
her  expenses  paid ;  that  she  was  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  United  States  and  was  as  safe  as  if 
the  King  of  Italy  should  take  her  under  his  royal 
care  and  pledge  his  word  that  her  enemies  should 
not  have  revenge  upon  her. 

Then  she  broke  down  and  related  her  awful 
narrative.  That  every  word  of  it  is  true  no  one 
could  doubt  who  saw  her  as  she  told  it. 

A  "fine  lady,"  who  wore  beautiful  clothes, 
came  to  where  she  lived  with  her  parents.  She 
made  friends  with  every  one.  Money  seemed  of 
no  object  to  her.  She  lavished  it  upon  the  young 
girls  of  the  district  and  flattered  them.  She  told 
the  young  iromigrant  girl  that  she  was  uncom- 


TRAGEDIES  51 

monly  pretty  and  professed  a  great  interest  in 
her.  Such  flattering  attentions  from  an  Ameri- 
can lady,  who  wore  clothes  as  fine  as  those  of  the 
Italian  nobility,  could  have  but  one  effect  on  the 
mind  of  the  simple  little  peasant  girl  and  her  still 
simpler  parents.  Their  heads  were  completely 
turned  and  they  regarded  the  American  lady  al- 
most with  adoration. 

Very  shrewdly  the  woman  did  not  attempt  to 
bring  the  little  girl  back  with  her,  but  held  out 
the  hope  that  some  day  a  letter  might  come  with 
money  for  her  passage  to  America.  Once  there 
she  would  become  the  companion  of  her  Ameri- 
can friend  and  they  would  have  great  times  to- 
gether. 

Of  course,  in  due  time,  the  money  came — and 
the  $100  was  a  most  substantial  pledge  to  the 
parents  of  the  wealth  and  generosity  of  the 
"American  lady."  Unhesitatingly  she  was  pre- 
pared for  the  voyage  which  was  to  take  her  to  the 
land  of  happiness  and  good  fortune.  According 
to  the  arrangements  made  by  letter  the  girl  was 
met  at  New  York  by  two  "friends"  of  her  bene- 
factress, who  attended  to  her  entrance  papers 
and  took  her  in  charge.  These  "friends"  were 
two  of  the  most  brutal  of  all  tlie  white  slave 
drivers  who  are  in  the  traffic.  At  this  time  she 
was  about  sixteen  years  old,  innocent  and  rarely 
attractive  for  a  girl  of  her  class,  having  the  large, 


52  WHITE  SLAVE 

handsome  eyes,  the  black  hair  and  the  rich  oKve 
skin  of  a  typical  Italian. 

Where  these  two  men  took  her  she  did  not 
know — but  by  the  most  violent  and  brutal  means 
they  quickly  accomplished  her  ruin.  For  a  week 
she  was  subjected  to  unspeakable  treatment  and 
made  to  feel  that  her  degradation  was  complete 
and  final. 

And  here  let  it  be  said  that  the  breaking  of  the 
spirit,  the  crushing  of  all  hope  for  any  future 
save  that  of  shame,  is  always  a  part  of  the  initia- 
tion of  a  white  slave.  Then  the  girl  was  shipped 
to  Chicago,  where  she  was  disposed  of  to  the 
keeper  of  an  Italian  dive  of  the  vilest  type.  On 
her  entrance  here  she  was  furnished  with  gaudy 
dresses  and  wearing  apparel  for  which  the  keeper 
of  the  place  charged  her  $600.  As  is  the  case 
with  all  new  white  slaves,  she  was  not  allowed  to 
have  any  clothing  which  she  could  wear  upon  the 
street. 

Her  one  object  in  life  was  to  escape  from  the 
den  in  which  she  was  held  a  prisoner.  To  "pay 
out"  seemed  the  surest  way,  and  at  length,  from 
her  wages  of  shame,  she  was  able  to  cancel  the 
$600  account.  Then  she  asked  for  her  street 
clothing  and  her  release — only  to  be  told  that  she 
had  incurred  other  expenses  to  the  amount  of 
$400. 


TRAGEDIES  53 

Her  Italian  blood  took  fire  at  this  and  she 
made  a  dash  for  liberty.  But  she  was  not  quite 
quick  enough  and  the  hand  of  the  oppressor  was 
upon  her.  In  the  wild  scene  that  followed  she 
was  slashed  with  a  razor,  one  gash  straight 
through  her  right  eye,  one  across  her  cheek  and 
another  slitting  her  ear.  Then  she  was  given 
medical  attention  and  the  wounds  gradually 
healed,  but  her  face  is  horribly  mutilated,  her 
right  eye  is  always  open  and  to  look  upon  her  is 
to  shudder. 

When  the  raids  began  she  was  secreted  and  ar- 
rangements made  to  ship  her  to  a  dive  in  the 
mining  regions  of  the  west.  Fortunately,  how- 
ever, a  few  hours  before  she  was  to  start  upon  her 
journey  the  United  States  marshals  raided  the 
place  and  captured  herself  as  well  as  her  keepers. 
To  add  to  the  horror  of  her  situation  she  became 
a  mother.  The  awful  thought  in  her  mind,  how- 
ever, is  to  escape  from  assassination  at  the  hands 
of  the  murderous  gang  which  oppressed  her. 

This  is  only  one  of  a  score  of  similar  cases  dis- 
covered by  the  authorities. 

It  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  the  legal  evi- 
dence thus  far  collected  establishes  with  complete 
moral  certainty  these  awful  facts :  That  the  white 
slave  traffic  is  a  system — a  syndicate  which  has 
its  ramifications  from  the  Atlantic  seaboard  to 
the  Pacific  ocean,  with  "clearing  houses"  or  "dis- 


54  WHITE  SLAVE 

tributing  centers"  in  nearly  all  of  the  larger 
cities ;  that  in  this  ghastly  traffic  the  buying  price 
of  a  young  girl  is  $15  and  that  the  selling  price 
is  generally  about  $200 — if  the  girl  is  especially 
attractive  the  white  slave  dealer  may  be  able  to 
sell  her  for  $400  or  $600;  that  this  syndicate  did 
not  make  less  than  $200,000  last  year  in  this  al- 
most unthinkable  commerce;  that  it  is  a  definite 
organization  sending  its  hunters  regularly  to 
scour  France,  Germany,  Hungary,  Italy  and 
Canada  for  victims;  that  the  man  at  the  head  of 
this  unthinkable  enterprise  is  known  among  his 
hunters  as  "The  Big  Chief." 

Also  the  evidence  shows  that  the  hirelings  of 
this  traffic  are  stationed  at  certain  ports  of  entry 
in  Canada  where  large  numbers  of  immigrants 
are  landed  to  do  what  is  known  in  their  parlance 
as  "cutting  out  work."  In  other  words,  these 
watchers  for  human  prey  scan  the  immigrants  as 
they  come  down  the  gangplank  of  a  vessel  which 
has  just  arrived  and  "spot"  the  girls  who  are  un- 
accompanied by  fathers,  mothers,  brothers  or  rel- 
atives to  protect  them.  The  girl  who  has  been 
spotted  as  a  desirable  and  unprotected  victim  is 
promptly  approached  by  a  man  who  speaks  her 
language  and  is  immediately  offered  employment 
at  good  wages,  with  all  expenses  to  the  destina- 
tion to  be  paid  by  the  man.  Most  frequently 
laundry  work  is  the   bait  held   out,  sometimes 


TRAGEDIES  55 

housework  or  employment  in  a  candy  shop  or 
factory. 

The  object  of  the  negotiations  is  to  "cut  out" 
the  girl  from  any  of  her  associates  and  to  get  her 
to  go  with  him.  Then  the  only  thing  is  to  accom- 
plish their  ruin  by  the  shortest  route.  If  they 
cannot  be  cajoled  or  enticed  by  promises  of  an 
easy  time,  plenty  of  money,  fine  clothes  and  the 
usual  stock  of  allurements — or  a  fake  marriage 
— then  harsher  methods  are  resorted  to.  In  some 
instances  the  hunters  really  marry  the  victims.  As 
to  the  sterner  measures,  it  is,  of  course,  impossi- 
ble to  speak  explicitly  beyond  the  statement  that 
intoxication  and  drugging  are  often  used  as  a 
means  to  reduce  the  victims  to  a  state  of  helpless- 
ness and  sheer  physical  violence  is  a  common 
thing. 

When  the  United  States  authorities  some  time 
ago  raided  the  French  resorts  on  the  south  side 
in  search  of  foreign  born  victims  of  the  slave 
trade,  some  of  the  most  palpable  of  slavery  tac- 
tics were  discovered. 

"Not  one  woman  in  one  of  these  prominent  re- 
sorts was  found  who  could  speak  English,"  said 
Assistant  United  States  Attorney  Parkin.  "But 
in  their  own  tongue  everything  said  by  them 
showed  long  drilling  as  to  answers  that  should 
be  made  to  inquiries.  Ask  any  one  of  these  wom- 
en a  sudden  question  in  English  and  her  reply 


56  WHITE  SLAVE 

to  anything  asked  would  be  'five  years,'  the  term 
of  residence  in  the  United  States  that  would  pre- 
vent deportation. 

"The  typical  story  of  the  women  was  of  hav- 
ing come  to  New  York  about  four  years  ago  as 
companions  or  servants  in  the  family  of  well  to 
do  French  immigrants.  After  several  years  the 
family  had  returned,  leaving  the  girl,  who  about 
three  or  four  months  before  had  come  to  Chi- 
cago from  a  New  York  resort. 

"But  the  slavery  feature  was  bulwarked  by 
every  fact  that  we  could  elicit  from  these  drilled 
women.  Not  one  of  them  knew  by  what  steamer 
she  had  come  to  the  countrv;  she  could  not  even 
name  the  line  by  which  she  sailed.  She  didn't 
know  what  the  steamer  fares  were.  She  could 
not  name  a  single  street  in  New  York,  which 
would  have  been  a  certainty  had  she  even  stopped 
there  for  a  week  at  liberty. 

"We  seized  trunks  in  their  possession  on  which 
were  the  stamps  of  the  customs  officials,  showing 
that  most  of  the  women  had  come  in  the  second 
cabin.  In  some  of  these  trunks  we  found  sealed 
letters,  written  by  girls  to  parents  in  France, 
begging  them  to  write,  and  as  completing  the 
slavery  chain,  we  found  other  letters  in  possession 
of  the  keepers,  written  long  before  by  these  girls 
to  parents,  which  the  keepers  had  received  for 


TRAGEDIES  57 

mailing  but  which  they  had  refused  to  post  for 
the  helpless  prisoners. 

"The  girls  were  18  to  22  years  old  and  had 
come  through  Ellis  Island  under  assumed  names. 
The  letters  in  the  trunks  revealed  the  true  names 
of  the  writers.  None  of  them  could  tell  a  date 
of  sailing  or  date  of  landing.  One  of  these  girls 
had  $1,500  charged  against  her  for  clothing  fur- 
nished by  the  house.  Another  girl  said  the  house 
owed  her  $8^,  which  she  had  been  unable  to  col- 
lect. Once  a  month  they  were  sent  to  the  'sum- 
mer cottage'  of  this  resort,  at  Blue  Island,  where 
under  guard  of  their  slavers,  they  had  the  free- 
dom of  an  elaborate  house  and  the  privileges  of 
a  launch  and  boats  on  the  river. 

"Slavery  is  the  only  logical  deduction  account- 
ing for  these  women's  presence  in  these  houses. 
None  of  them  could  tell  anything  about  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  steamer  ticket.  Everything  points 
to  their  having  been  imported  to  this  country  by 
slave  traffickers  and  of  their  having  been  for- 
warded to  Chicago  directly  from  the  port  of  en- 
try under  charge  of  some  one  who  assumed  all 
charge  of  them  to  every  smallest  detail  of  trans- 
portation. In  the  Chicago  houses  raided  we 
found  that  some  man  was  held  responsible  for  one 
or  more  of  these  women.  He  lived  off  them  and 
was  looked  to  to  enforce  discipline  among  them 
in  return  for  the  privilege." 


58  WHITE  SLAVE 

Only  the  French  and  the  Hungarian  resorts 
so  far  have  been  raided  by  the  United  States 
district  attorney.  It  is  former  Assistant  State's 
Attorney  Roe's  discovery  that  on  the  west  side 
where  ten  years  ago  scarcely  a  single  Jewess  was 
to  be  found  in  a  resort,  today  80  per  cent  of  the 
inmate  are  Russian  and  Polish  Jews.  The  field 
here  is  promising  to  the  United  States  authori- 
ties, who  can  work  only  from  the  statute  which 
allows  of  deporting  these  women  under  certain 
residence  restrictions. 

One  fact  accounting  for  this  increase  in  Jewish 
habitues  of  west  side  resorts  is  explained  by  a 
Russian  exile  in  Chicago. 

In  St.  Petersburg,  Moscow  and  other  capitals 
of  Russia  only  the  Jewess  in  slavery  may  enter. 
It  is  the  only  condition  under  which  the  Jewish 
girl  may  enter  these  cities. 

At  the  first  necessity  for  importation,  how  easy 
is  the  traffic? 


CHAPTER  V. 
The  Tragedy  of  the  Stage. 

One  thousand  innocent  girls,  the  majority  of 
them  still  in  their  teens,  are  lured  to  a  life  of 
shame  each  year  in  the  city  of  Chicago  alone 
through  the  stage. 

This  is  the  statement  of  the  police.  It  is  the 
statement  of  the  keepers  of  the  dives  themselves. 

A  visit  to  almost  any  of  the  dives  of  the  Twen- 
ty-second street  district  will  convince  even  the 
most  skeptical  reader  of  the  truth  of  this  state- 
ment. 

Enter  and  inquire  for  a  show  girl. 

True,  she  will  not  be  the  sprightly,  supple  and 
pretty  creature  one  sees  nightly  on  the  stages  of 
the  better  theaters  of  the  city.  Yet  she  is  a 
show  girl — or,  rather,  I  might  say,  has  been  one. 

She  is  a  show  girl  who  has  fallen.  The  sparkle 
of  wine,  the  glare  of  lights  and  the  happy-go- 
lucky  company  of  the  after-theater  parties  have 
proven  her  downfall.  Under  their  baneful  influ- 
ences she  has  been  led  on,  until  now  you  see  her 
dull-eyed,  disheveled  haired,  with  all  ambition 
gone,  her  natural  appetites  ruined — a  Magdelen. 

When  a  girl  becomes  a  member  of  a  chorus  or 
ballet  of  a  comic  opera  company — that  is  to  say, 

59 


60  WHITE  SLAVE 

when  she  enters  the  profession — she  is  usually  a 
good  girl,  of  fair  education,  with  supple  figure, 
and  usually  beautiful  in  features.  As  a  rule  she 
has  never  kept  company  with  men,  moneyed 
men,  blase  men  of  the  world. 

In  every  chorus  one  will  find  a  number  of  "old 
stagers,"  or  girls  who  have  been  in  the  profession 
for  several  years.  They  have  been  through  "the 
mill."  The  gay  life  has  attracted  them.  They 
know  lots  of  "dandy  good  fellows"  who  are  more 
than  willing  to  "show  them  a  good  time." 

The  family  names  of  the  young  men  are  almost 
copyrighted  by  the  newspapers.  Every  one  has 
heard  of  them. 

It  is  easy  for  the  "old  stager"  to  win  the  young 
and  inexperienced  girl  unless  the  younger  show 
girl  has  a  great  amount  of  will  power.  Once 
won  over,  the  work  is  easy. 

It  starts  with  a  dash  through  the  city  in  a  ten 
thousand  dollar  automobile.  Drinks  are  taken 
en  route.  Of  course,  the  young  girl  can't  refuse. 
She  is  with  such  nice  fellows :  The  "old  stager" 
urges  her  on.  The  "stager"  may  have  lost  her 
attractions,  but  the  old  gay  life  must  be  kept  up. 
To  keep  her  place  in  the  whirl  she  must  turn  pro- 
curess for  the  rich  men  who  must  be  amused.  If 
she  did  not  bring  the  young  girl  her  company 
would  not  be  asked. 
I     The  first  trip  usually  proves  the  first  step  into 


TRAGEDIES  61 

the  dark  pit.  Even  though  the  young  show  girl 
may  not  have  fallen  the  gay  company  has  had  its 
effect.  The  next  time  a  party  is  suggested  there 
is  no  refusal.  There  is  no  refusal  of  the  drinks 
brought  to  the  girl.  The  suggestive  remarks  and 
show  of  animal  passion  of  the  male  companion 
are  received  with  less  resentment. 

Then  the  final  step  towards  the  brothel  is  tak- 
en. It  may  be  in  the  richly  furnished  apart- 
ments of  the  young  man  after  a  night's  carousal. 
It  may  be  in  some  of  the  loop  hotels  that  live  off 
of  fallen  women.     It  may  be  in  the  brothel  itself. 

The  senses  may  have  been  dulled  by  some 
sleeping  potion.  It  is  not  an  unusual  occurrence 
for  a  girl  to  be  drugged  while  sipping  some  inno- 
cent looking  drink  or  partaking  of  the  luxurious 
viands  set  forth  at  these  seemingly  gay  parties. 
The  "wealthy  young  man" — the  companion  of 
the  young  girl — may  be  a  white  slaver  in  disguise, 
merely  spending  the  money  of  his  employers,  the 
keepers  of  the  brothels,  that  he  may  be  able  to 
supply  them  with  new  human  flesh. 

The  records  of  the  police  courts  of  the  city  tell 
of  scores  of  such  cases.  They  do  not  tell  the 
story,  however,  of  the  thousands  who  have  been 
lured  in  a  like  manner  and  who  kept  silence  be- 
cause of  their  shame. 

They  do  not  tell  of  the  young  girls  to  whom 
the  promise  of  marriage  was  made  and  who,  un- 


62  WHITE  SLAVE 

der  this  persuasion,  fell.  In  some  instances  the 
promise  is  even  fulfilled,  but  the  girl  wife  awakes 
to  find  herself  even  farther  advanced  toward  the 
ultimate  goal — the  brothel. 

Once  on  the  downward  path,  there  is  but  little 
chance  of  reformation.  The  thought  of  her  shame 
drives  her  from  her  purer  companions.  She  seeks 
company  that  is  on  a  lower  moral  plane.  The 
dull,  innocent  existence  and  the  purer  pleasures 
no  longer  attract  her.  Home  and  parents  are 
forgotten  in  the  mad  whirl.  Religion  and  home 
teachings  are  a  thing  of  the  past.  The  whole  na- 
ture has  changed. 

She  gradually  assumes  the  habits  and  customs 
of  her  immoral  companions.  She  drops  into  the 
slangy  language  of  the  underworld.  The  oaths 
and  drunkenness  that  once  were  repellant  to  her 
are  heard  with  an  unmoved  conscience.  Her 
physical  charms  are  attacked  by  this  fly-by-night 
existence.  All  of  the  innocent  atti'ibutes  that 
once  were  applauded  and  extolled  are  dead. 

The  managers  no  longer  want  her.  She  is  not 
sprightly  enough.  Her  voice  has  lost  its  charm 
and  her  face  is  dull.  They  must  have  girls  w^ho 
excite  interest  and  enliven  their  audiences.  It  is 
only  a  short  time  until  she  is  unable  to  find  a  place 
to  work. 

It  is  a  mad,  -sdld  dash  while  it  lasts — good  cheer 
and  Bohemian  fellowship,  but  it  always  has  the 


TRAGEDIES  63 

ultimate  end — the  furnished  flat  or  the  recognized 
den  of  vice. 

It  may  last  a  year,  it  may  last  several,  but  the 
goal  is  the  same.  The  girl  who  "saw  the  good 
time  and  met  such  nice  fellows"  is  eventually  a 
victim  to  the  caprice  of  flesh  buyers.  In  the  end 
she  doles  out  her  own  body  for  a  price.  This  is 
the  price  she  pays  for  her  "good  time." 

But  few  of  the  girls  who  start  on  this  down- 
ward path  ever  reform.  Many  have  tried,  but 
the  way  is  too  hard.  They  meet  persons  who 
have  known  them  when  they  were  leading  this 
evil  existence.  They  are  slighted  and  scoffed  at. 
Their  ambition  to  again  become  pure  and  good  is 
thwarted.  As  a  rule  they  sink  back  into  the 
whirl.  This  time  they  give  up  in  utter  abandon. 
Nothing  is  then  too  bad  or  repulsive.  The  end  is 
not  far  off. 

The  girl  in  the  road  company  is  subjected  to 
the  greater  temptations.  She  must  travel  at  all 
hours  of  the  night  and  day.  The  road  shows 
usually  play  but  one  night  in  a  town. 

The  hotel  accommodations  are  usually  poor. 
In  some  places  she  must  "double  up"  with  some- 
body.    Sometimes  it  is  a  male  companion. 

In  the  burlesque  shows  this  is  not  regarded  as 
out  of  the  way.  The  chorus  girls  of  these  vulgar 
attractions  are  usually  "castoffs"  or  "has  beens'* 
from  the  comic  operas  or  more  wholesome  attrac- 


64  WHITE  SLAVE 

tions.  Their  charms  have  diminished,  therefore 
they  must  accept  these  more  lowly  positions. 

The  dressing  rooms  of  men  in  many  of  th«5 
smaller  theaters  are  in  close  connection  of  those 
of  the  women.  Recently  in  the  city  of  Chicago 
a  crusade  was  started  against  these  places.  Some 
alterations  were  made,  but  the  condition  in  many 
instances  is  unimproved. 

The  young  girls  are  taught  and  drilled  that 
sex  is  to  be  forgotten  on  the  stage. 

Here  feminine  traits  are  to  be  left  at  home.  If 
a  girl  is  asked  to  kiss  or  throw  her  arms  about  a 
man,  no  matter  what  character  he  may  be,  it  is 
her  duty  to  do  so.  If  she  is  asked  to  bare  her 
body  to  the  public  gaze,  with  nothing  but  skin 
tights  to  cover  her  nudity,  it  is  her  duty  to  do  so. 
That  is  what  she  is  being  paid  for. 

The  animal  nature  of  the  audience  must  be 
satisfied. 

Every  year  the  vulgarity  becomes  more  and 
more  apparent.  New  and  more  suggestive  nov- 
elties must  be  introduced  to  satisfy  this  "taste." 
The  songs  must  have  a  "meaning" — the  dances, 
some  of  which  bring  the  blush  of  shame  to  the 
brow  of  even  the  most  hardened  theater-goers — 
must  also  arouse  the  passion. 

The  good  girl  first  rebels  at  such.  Day  in 
and  day  out,  as  she  rehearses,  she  sees  other  girls 
doing  the  thing  that  is  required  without  kick  or 


TRAGEDIES  65 

objectioric  She  gradually  falls  into  it  herself.  It 
does  not  look  so  bad  after  she  has  bowed  to  the 
manager's  wishes  several  times. 

It  isn't  long  before  the  things  that  once  caused 
her  to  blush  and  falter  seem  to  be  a  natural  con- 
sequence. The  things  against  which  she  once 
fought  are  repulsive  no  longer. 

She  gradually  falls  into  line  with  the  others. 
Her  innocence  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 

She  is  no  longer  a  girl — she  is  a  woman  "who 
knows." 

It  was  about  a  year  ago  that  I  saw  a  young 
girl,  a  beautiful  little  creature  scarcely  nineteen 
years  old,  at  a  Chicago  theater.  She  was  a  beau- 
ty, even  in  comparison  with  the  other  comely 
girls  in  the  squad  of  beginners. 

While  they  were  resting  after  an  act  I  talked 
with  her.  She  frankly  told  me  she  was  stage 
struck,  but  that  her  desire  to  become  a  great 
actress  was  inborn  and  not  gained  by  association. 
Before  she  came  to  the  city  from  her  home  in  a 
little  town  out  in  Iowa  she  had  seen  but  one  show. 
Her  ideas  of  the  stage  had  been  gained  from 
books  and  from  day  dreams. 

Her  conversation  was  the  essence  of  innocence. 
Her  family  had  been  particular  about  her  rear- 
ing. They  had  been  in  moderate  circumstances 
and  had  given  her  everything  in  their  power.  She 


66  WHITE  SLAVE 

had  come  to  Chicago  to  attain  her  ideal — to  be- 
come a  great  actress. 

She  was  of  the  frank  and  innocent  type.  Every- 
body she  regarded  as  her  friend.  She  was  en- 
thusiastic about  her  art.  That  her  ambition 
would  be  realized  she  did  not  doubt  for  an  instant. 

It  was  ten  months  later  when  I  met  her  again. 

Her  face  wore  a  tell-tale  look.  The  daintiness 
of  bearing  and  innocent  features  were  missing. 
Her  shyness  was  gone.  She  was  bold,  and  im- 
measureably  aged. 

A  hea^y  coat  of  powder  and  rouge  besmeared 
her  face,  but  only  served  to  make  the  dark  circles 
beneath  her  eyes  stand  forth  with  more  promi- 
nence. The  simple,  childish  gown  I  had  admired 
was  replaced  by  a  showy,  flashy  creation. 

In  one  glance  I  read  the  answer,  the  secret  of 
her  changed  existence. 

When  her  eyes  met  mine,  for  a  second  in  their 
dull  depths  I  could  see  an  expression  of  the  old 
innocence.  Probably  it  was  the  thought  she  en- 
tertained for  that  short  space  in  the  connecting 
of  me  with  her  old  and  pure  existence. 

When  she  spoke  I  could  not  be  mistaken.  Try 
as  she  did  to  appear  the  girl  of  old,  it  was  useless. 
The  pace  had  told  and  left  its  trace  only  too 
strongly  written  on  every  line  of  her  face. 

After  the  usual  greeting  I  asked  her  to  take 
dinner  with  me»     She  assented. 


TRAGEDIES  67 

In  the  cafe  I  asked  her  what  had  happened. 
How  she  had  fallen. 

For  a  minute  she  sat  gazing  at  me  and  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears. 

"Do  I  look  that  way?  Can  every  one  I  meet 
read  what  I  am?"  she  asked  tearfully. 

I  tried  to  evade  her  questioning,  but  she 
pressed  for  an  answer.  Then  I  told  her  that  I 
was  afraid  her  secret  was  only  too  plainly  writ- 
ten. 

"Why  don't  you  give  it  up  and  go  home?"  I 
asked  her. 

She  thought  a  minute  and  then  answered  that 
she  couldn't. 

"I'm  not  as  bad  as  lots  of  the  others,"  she  said 
desperately.  "I  don't  hope  and  long  any  more 
to  become  a  great  actress. 

"I  found  there  were  so  many  more  girls  who 
were  more  accomplished  than  me.  I  couldn't 
get  anything  but  a  chorus  part.  I  became  dis- 
couraged and  went  out  for  good  times.  I  had 
them,  I  guess." 

When  I  asked  her  to  go  home  and  try  to  begin 
over  again  her  anger  was  aroused.  The  com- 
pany she  had  kept  had  left  its  mark  on  her. 

"Say,  now,  don't  hand  me  any  of  that  religious 
talk,"  was  her  angry  answer.  "It's  nothing  to 
you  why  I  don't  go  home.  I've  had  good  times 
and  I  am  going  \o  have  more  of  them," 


68  WHITE  SLAVE 

I  talked  to  her  for  a  few  minutes,  but  soon 
found  argument  to  be  useless.  We  ate  our  din- 
ner quietly  and  without  further  words.  When  I 
parted  with  her  it  seemed  as  though  it  were  for 
the  last  time.  I  knew  the  end  that  was  near  at 
hand — the  specter  that  was  waiting  for  her. 

It  was  three  weeks  later  when  I  saw  her  again. 
There  was  a  different  setting  for  the  scene  than 
at  our  two  other  meetings. 

The  scene  was  laid  in  a  cell  room  at  the  Harri- 
son street  police  station.  On  an  iron  cot  lay  a 
young  girl.  She  was  in  a  maudlin  condition  from 
drugs.  Her  clothes  were  dirty  and  torn.  Her 
face  was  discolored  and  bloated. 

It  was  the  same  girl — the  little  innocent  show 
girl  of  a  year  before. 

She  had  been  arrested  in  a  raid  by  the  police 
on  the  notorious  Clark  street  opium  dive  of  On 
Ling  Lung.  Lying  in  a  dirty  cot  in  the  rear  of 
the  basement  den,  she  had  been  found  by  the  raid- 
ers. She  was  unconscious.  On  a  little  stand  by 
her  side  had  been  a  little  alcohol  lamp.  On  the 
bunk  beside  her  lay  an  opium  pipe. 

I  asked  the  sergeant  the  details  of  her  arrest. 

"The  station  stool  pigeons  who  had  been  watch- 
ing the  place  saw  her  go  down  into  it  about  a 
week  ago,"  said  the  sergeant.  A  well  dressed 
Chinaman  was  with  her.  She  looked  as  though 
she  was  di'unk. 


TRAGEDIES  69 

"We  wanted  to  get  all  of  those  opium  smokers 
down  there  all  at  once,  so  we  waited  a  week.  I 
don't  think  she  has  eaten  much  since  she  went 
there.     Just  laid  there  and  smoked. 

"After  they  get  a  taste  of  the  dreamy  stuff 
they  can't  leave  it  alone.  It's  poison  and  it  just 
goes  all  through  them. 

"You  don't  want  to  monkey  with  her,"  the  ser- 
geant admonished  when  I  suggested  that  I  would 
see  that  care  would  be  given  her.  "She's  gone 
now.  She  got  the  taste,  and  there's  no  use  try- 
ing to  break  it.  You  couldn't.  She'll  get  a 
couple  of  months  down  in  the  Bridewell  and  it'll 
straighten  her  up  for  a  while,  but  she'll  be  back 
in  a  little  while. 

"No,  sir,  there's  no  use  talking,  when  they  once 
get  a  whiff  of  that  dope  they  might  as  well  jump 
in  the  lake.     They're  no  good. 

She  was  still  lying  in  a  stupor  on  the  iron  cot 
when  I  left  the  dingy  cell  room.  In  a  couple  of 
hours  she  would  awaken,  but  only  to  go  into  a 
delirium. 

As  I  left  I  could  see  a  vision  of  the  innocent 
girl  of  the  year  before,  standing  among  the 
sceneries  of  the  down-town  theater,  telling  of  her 
ambitions. 

How  far  had  her  whole  being  retrograded  from 
that  day! 


70  WHITE  SLAVE 

But  she  was  only  one  of  many — a  victim  of  the 
stage. 

Probably  the  greatest  agency  through  which 
girls  are  lured  is  the  fake  "theatrical  agency." 

In  Chicago  there  exists  many  of  these  clearing 
houses  for  the  vice  trust.  Sumptuous  offices  are 
maintained  in  great  office  buildings  down  town. 
Large  office  forces  are  necessary  to  carry  on  the 
enormous  business  they  conduct. 

These  concerns  operate  usually  under  a  name 
similar  to  those  of  the  legitimate  and  responsible 
theatrical  agencies.  Their  advertisements  usu- 
ally appear  in  papers  in  small  towns  and  cities. 
The  police  keep  a  close  watch  on  them,  but  with- 
out result. 

Few  of  the  girls  obtained  by  the  slavers 
through  these  agencies  are  ruined  in  the  city. 

The  "theatrical  agency'*  slaver  works  in  this 
manner : 

He  advertises  in  papers  all  over  the  country 
for  girls  "who  wish  to  take  up  theatrical  work." 
Even  in  the  city  papers  he  inserts  ads  disguised, 
but  with  the  same  meaning. 

Large  salaries  are  offered  to  beginners. 
Chances  of  advancement  within  a  few  months  to 
parts  in  plays  are  held  out.  Offers  are  made  to 
sign  contracts  for  several  years'  duration. 

Every  girl  must  answer  the  advertisement  in 
person.     This  is  imperative. 


TRAGEDIES  71 

Scores  of  girls  do  answer  the  ads.  They  usu- 
ally range  from  16  to  21  years  in  age.  The  ma- 
jority of  them  come  from  families  in  only  mod- 
erate circumstances. 

They  are  received  with  every  courtesy.  If  the 
girl  is  good  looking,  of  good  figure  and  a  fair  en- 
tertainer she  is  "accepted"  by  the  fashionably 
dressed  manager.  If  she  is  not  up  to  these  re- 
quirements she  is  told  to  come  back. 

When  the  girl  signs  the  "contract"  her  fate  is 
sealed.     Great  inducements  are  offered  her. 

She  is  told  that  she  must  join  a  road  company 
traveling  in  the  west,  and  which  will  perform  in 
a  city  probably  100  or  150  miles  away  on  a  near 
date. 

The  girl,  happy  at  her  good  fortune,  is  en- 
thusiastic. She  bids  her  family  a  fond  good-bye, 
the  last,  probably. 

The  kiss  she  places  fondly  on  her  mother's 
brow  is  that  of  a  person  going  to  her  grave.  The 
laughing  farewells  she  has  with  her  young  friends 
are  the  last.  The  homecoming  within  a  few 
months'  time  is  never  to  be  realized. 

The  signing  of  her  name  to  the  contract  is 
the  signing  of  her  death  warrant — yes,  even 
worse  than  that. 

In  that  stroke  of  the  pen  she  signs  away  her 
body  to  the  slavers. 

Happily,  probably  accompanied  by  a  relative. 


72  WHITE  SLAVE 

she  goes  to  the  "theatrical  agency"  office  to  ob- 
tain her  raih'oad  ticket.  There  she  is  introduced 
to  a  styHshly  dressed  man.  He  is  to  accompany 
her  and  several  other  girls  down  to  the  city  where 
they  are  to  join  the  troupe,  she  is  told. 

The  stylishly  dressed  man  is,  in  reality,  her 
guard.  It  is  his  duty  to  see  that  none  of  the 
girls  escape  their  fate.  He  is  to  hand  them  over 
to  the  divekeepers  for  a  sum  ranging  from  $50  to 
$1,000  each,  at  the  end  of  their  journey. 

Until  the  girls  are  handed  over  to  the  den- 
keepers  they  are  treated  with  the  utmost  respect. 

They  go  to  their  fate  like  innocent  sheep  to  the 
slaughter  pen. 

Probably  they  are  taken  to  the  city  where  they 
were  told  they  were  going.  Probably  there  is  a 
"sudden  change  of  plans"  after  the  girls  are  at 
the  depot.  They  are  then  taken  to  another  city 
from  the  destination  told  their  relatives  and 
friends. 

On  the  arrival  at  the  end  of  their  journey  they 
are  met  by  a  woman.  She  is  stylishly  dressed  and 
wears  many  beautiful  diamonds.  She  is  probably 
introduced  as  the  "leading  lady."  She  has  taken 
a  special  interest  in  the  new  girls.  She  offers  to 
show  them  about  the  city. 

It  is  probably  at  dinner  or  while  they  sleep 
innocently  that  night,  dreaming  of  their  good 
fortune,  that  they  are  robbed  of  their  senses.     A 


TRAGEDIES  73 

handkerchief,  wet  with  chloroform  or  ether, 
spread  over  their  faces  does  the  work.  Or  it 
may  be  a  small  powder  dropped  in  their  coffee. 

Then  comes  the  awful  awakening. 

The  scene  changes  to  a  den  of  vice.  The  young 
girls  awake  in  a  darkened  room.  Each  one  is 
alone.  All  of  her  clothes  have  been  taken  from 
her.  She  is  nude.  Her  head  seems  to  be  burst- 
ing.    It  is  the  after-effect  of  the  drug. 

As  she  begins  to  regain  her  faculties  more  fully 
she  makes  out  the  figure  of  a  man  in  her  room. 
As  he  sees  her  beginning  to  revive  he  comes  to- 
wards her.  She  attempts  to  cover  up  her  nude 
body.  She  struggles  to  free  herself  as  he  grabs 
hold  of  her.  He  laughs  at  her  pitiable  efforts  to 
repulse  him. 

What  matter  it  if  she  does  resist  him !  She  has 
been  ruined  while  she  lay  unconscious  under  the 
influence  of  the  drug! 

The  young  girl,  terrified  and  ill,  is  easily  made 
a  friend  of  by  the  woman  who  comes  to  her  and 
offers  her  sympathy.  She  drinks  of  the  "medi- 
cine" that  is  offered  her.  In  a  few  minutes  she 
is  in  a  maudlin  condition. 

It  is  more  "dope." 

Under  the  influence  of  this  drug  she  is  a  mark 
at  the  hands  of  the  denkeepers.  She  is  given 
whisky  and  liquor.     As  the  effects  of  the  drug 


74  WHITE  SLAVE 

die  out  she  craves  for  more.  Liquor  is  given  in 
its  stead. 

For  several  weeks  she  may  be  kept  in  this  state. 
She  is  maudHn  and  resents  no  liberties  taken  with 
her. 

Then  comes  the  awakening.  When  the  dive- 
keeper  thinks  she  is  sufficiently  "broke  in"  she  is 
refused  liquor.     She  gradually  becomes  sober. 

It  is  an  awful  awakening.  Ti^e  darkness  of  it 
all — the  thought  of  her  ruin  dj  ^es  her  mad. 
She  is  watched  carefully  for  days  so  that  she  can 
not  harm  herself.  To  forget  the  terrible  things 
she  is  forced  to  do,  she  goes  back  to  drink.  Un- 
der its  influence  she  is  past  knowing  of  her  forced 
sins. 

Her  every  hope  is  ruined.  If  she  attempted  to 
leave  the  place  she  would  be  beaten  and  impris- 
oned. The  young  girl  is  ashamed,  anyway,  to 
go  home  and  confess  the  story  of  her  "theatrical" 
career. 

She  stays  behind  and  becomes  one  of  them.  In 
the  little  home,  probably  only  a  hundred  miles 
away,  a  father  and  mother  wait  expectantly  for 
her  homecoming. 

The  wait  is  long,  for  she  never  returns.  She 
has  been  swallowed  up  by  the  giant  octopus, 
white  slavery. 

An  example  of  this  method  of  white  slavery 
was  recently  exposed  in  the  Chicago  newspapers. 


TRAGEDIES  75 

Two  young  girls,  one  15  years  old,  the  other 
16,  applied  for  positions  at  one  of  these  "theat- 
rical agencies."  They  were  given  positions  in  a 
"show"  that  was  playing  at  Springfield,  Illinois. 

A  big  salary  was  guaranteed  both  of  them. 
They  were  happy  at  their  good  luck.  Both  ran 
away  from  home  to  accept  the  positions.  A  man 
accompanied  them  to  Springfield. 

In  a  restaurant  in  the  capital  city  of  Illinois 
they  were  drugged.  Poison  was  placed  in  their 
food.  When  they  woke  up  they  were  in  one  of 
the  lowest  dives  of  the  city,  the  "Big  O"  saloon 
and  brothel. 

In  this  place  are  kept  fifty  girls.  The  major- 
ity of  them  were  obtained  by  a  similar  method. 
There  is  only  one  entrance  to  the  floor  on  which 
the  girls  were  confined.  That  door  was  to  a  stair- 
way that  connected  the  upper  floor  with  the  sa- 
loon. A  man  stood  on  guard  to  see  that  none 
of  the  girls  escaped. 

Three  times  the  girls  attempted  to  escape.  In 
the  last  effort  one  of  them  was  successful.  The 
other  two  times  the  girls  were  beaten  and  starved 
when  caught. 

The  girl  who  escaped  made  her  way  to  a  police 
station.  She  was  garbed  only  In  a  short  wrapper 
that  reached  barely  to  her  knees.  The  remainder 
of  her  person  was  bare.  Her  clothes  had  been 
taken  from  her  when  she  was  taken  to  the  place. 


76  WHITE  SLAVE 

The  police  at  once  raided  the  place  and  rescued 
the  other  girl.  The  Chicago  police  were  notified 
and  returned  both  of  them  to  their  parents. 

Both  girls  had  been  horribly  treated.  Every 
liberty  that  can  be  imagined  had  been  taken  with 
them.  They  had  been  forced  to  do  acts  beyond 
comprehension. 

This  is  but  one  actual  instance  of  the  methods 
employed  to  lure  girls  to  an  awful  fate,  but  it 
tells  the  story  of  hundreds. 

This  is  but  one  method  whereby  the  great  slave 
mart  of  Chicago  is  kept  in  operation,  sacrificing 
its  thousands  of  girl  to  the  demon  lust. 

The  stage,  with  all  its  attractions,  can  be  but 
the  stepping  stone  to  a  life  of  shame,  unless  the 
girl  is  surrounded  with  every  home  protecti(m. 

It  leads  its  victims  a  merry  whirl,  a  gay,  giddy 
time,  while  it  lasts,  but  the  end  is  always  in  sight. 

The  brothel  flirts  with  the  stage.  It  regards 
it  as  a  needful  source  of  supplies. 

And  the  stage,  fickle  and  flighty,  lays  its  inno- 
cents on  the  altar. 

Its  sacrifice  yearly  in  the  great  metropolis  of 
the  west  is  1,000  victims  a  year. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Five  Thousand. 

It  was  the  cold  gray  dawn  of  a  late  November 
morning.  The  scene  is  laid  in  the  marshy  slough 
far  to  the  north  of  the  buildings  of  the  Dunning 
poor  farm  at  the  north  edge  of  the  city  of  Chi- 
cago. 

In  the  chill  and  drizzling  rain  an  aged,  bent- 
shouldered  man  was  digging.  The  soft,  wet  mud 
he  tossed  in  a  pile  alongside  of  the  hole  in  which 
he  stood.  Finally  he  slowly  clambered  out  of 
the  pit  and  surveyed  his  work. 

The  hole  was  nearly  six  feet  long  and  three 
feet  wide.     It  was  about  the  latter  in  depth. 

Suddenly  the  old  man  looked  up.  To  the 
south  of  him  he  heard  the  rumble  of  a  wagon.  A 
few  minutes  later  the  rusty  gate  at  the  end  of  the 
meadow  swung  creakingly  on  its  hinges.  With 
a  rattle  and  bounce  the  wagon  again  started  to- 
wards him. 

The  wagon  was  a  high  boarded  affair.  On 
its  side  could  be  read  the  inscription,  "City  of 
Chicago,"  and  then  the  number  "321." 

The  vehicle  drew  up  close  to  the  hole.  The 
driver  reined  in  his  galloping  horses  with  a  jerk 
at  its  side. 

77 


78  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Hello,  Bill.  Been  waiting  long?"  yelled  the 
driver  to  the  old  man  as  he  jumped  from  his  seat. 

"Just  finished,"  answered  the  digger. 

The  driver  by  this  time  was  busy  with  the  end- 
gate  of  his  wagon.  Letting  it  down,  he  pulled 
at  a  long  box  in  the  vehicle. 

The  box  was  a  hastily  constructed  affair.  It 
was  of  plain,  unfinished  boards.  Sticking  to  the 
boards  were  pieces  of  colored  lithographs,  as 
though  they  had  once  been  part  of  a  dismantled 
billboard.  The  top  consisted  of  two  heavy  planks 
roughly  nailed  on. 

The  driver  struggled  with  the  box  a  moment. 
Then  he  came  around  to  where  the  aged  man 
stood. 

"You've  got  to  help  me,  Bill.  She's  a  darn 
heavy  one,"  exclaimed  the  driver. 

The  two  men  clambered  up  on  the  wagon  and 
grabbed  hold  of  one  end  of  the  box.  Together 
they  lifted  it  in  the  air.  The  box  slid  to  the 
ground,  on  end,  with  a  thud. 

The  men  took  hold  of  the  box  and  skidded  it 
along  the  muddy  ground  to  the  pit.  It  was  slid 
off  to  the  top  of  the  hole.     There  it  stuck. 

"Gee,  Bill,  you  didn't  get  that  hole  long 
enough,"  exclaimed  the  driver. 

"You  guys  up  at  the  dead  house  didn't  tell  me 
she  was  a  six  footer,"  muttered  the  old  man. 
"How'd  you  expect  me  to  guess  on  these  stiffs?" 


TRAGEDIES  79 

"Never  mind,  Bill,  I'll  fix  it,"  said  the  driver. 

Then,  suiting  his  words,  he  leaped  high  into 
the  air  and  came  down  with  a  bound  on  one  end 
of  the  box.  The  soft  ground  gave  away  after  a 
few  attempts  and  the  big  box  sank  with  a  sucking 
sound  in  the  bottom  of  the  hole. 

"Take  care  of  her  good,  Bill,"  yelled  back  the 
driver,  as  he  clambered  back  on  the  seat  of  his 
wagon.  "She's  a  swell  one.  She  came  from  the 
E club.     She  certainly  was  a  peach. 

"Doc  told  me,  when  I  was  loading  her  on  a 
while  ago,  that  it  was  a  dirty  shame  to  waste 
such  a  good  stiff.  He  said  that  if  she  hadn't 
been  so  far  gone  they'd  have  handed  her  over  to 
the  medical  schools." 

Then,  with  a  rumble,  the  wagon  started  off  on 
its  return  journey. 

The  old  man  gazed  down  for  a  moment  on  the 
box.  On  its  top,  inscribed  with  black  paint,  was 
the  number  "24331." 

At  the  side  of  the  pile  of  dirt  lay  a  little  six 
inch  board,  which  the  driver  had  thrown  from  the 
wagon.     It,  too,  bore  the  number  "24331." 

The  old  man  dug  his  spade  into  the  wet  dirt. 
Then  he  pitched  a  huge  clod  into  the  pit.  It 
struck  with  a  resounding  bang  on  the  lid  of  the 
box.  In  a  few  minutes  the  hole  was  filled.  The 
old  man  stuck  the  numbered  stick  into  the  ground 
at  the  head  of  the  mound. 


80  WHITE  SLAVE 

Stretching  away  in  long  rows  on  either  side, 
hundreds  of  other  similar  numbered  sticks  jutted 
from  unkempt  mounds. 

The  old  digger  shouldered  his  spade  and  jstart- 
ed  slowly  to  leave  the  scene.  Then  he  stopped 
and  slowly  surveyed  his  work. 

"A  swell  one,  huh,"  he  half  muttered  to  him- 
self. "Well,  so  was  lots  of  the  rest  of  them  that's 
out  here  now — once." 

Then,  with  a  sigh,  he  started  on  his  long  trudge 
across  the  muddy  meadow  towards  the  buildings 
of  the  poorhouse. 

*     *     *     * 

It  was  the  night  of  the  same  day. 

The  mjni'iad  of  incandescents  in  the  "red  light" 
district  lighted  that  section  of  the  city  as  though 
it  were  day.  Drunken  crowds  of  fashionably 
dressed  men  caroused  about  the  streets,  hurling 
vile  names  at  persons  they  met.  Down  at  the 
edge  of  the  district  a  fight  was  waging.  A  large 
crowd  had  collected.  A  blue-coated  policeman 
dashed  towards  the  combatants,  club  in  hand. 
There  was  a  wild  scramble  in  all  directions. 

In  the  shadows  of  a  big  building  a  man  was 
crouching.  His  cap  was  pulled  low  about  his 
eyes  to  shield  him  from  recognition. 

He  was  a  "roller,"  or  holdup  man.  He  was 
watching  a  particularly  drunken  man  who  stag- 


TRAGEDIES  81 

gered  along  the  street.  If  the  man  went  into 
the  darkness  his  fate  would  be  sealed.  The 
"roller"  would  be  upon  him  like  a  panther.  A 
crunching  blow  on  the  head  with  the  short  lead 
bar  that  the  robber  gripped  in  his  hand.  Then  a 
hurried  searching  of  the  man's  pockets.  The 
extracting  of  his  money  and  watch.  Then  back 
into  the  darkness  again  to  wait  for  a  new  victim. 

Suddenly  the  man  drew  back  further  into  his 
hiding  place.  An  automobile  had  stopped  di- 
rectly opposite  him,  in  front  of  the  E club. 

A  well  dressed  man  leaped  from  the  machine  and 
gave  orders  to  his  chauffeur  to  wait  until  he  re- 
turned. 

The  man  hurried  up  the  steps  to  the  massive 
door.  The  bell  pealed  back  in  an  inner  parlor. 
A  livered  servant  opened  the  door.  As  the  man 
entered  a  negress,  an  assistant  keeper,  came  to- 
wards him. 

"Hello,   Mr.  W ,  where  have  you  been 

for  the  last  couple  of  weeks?"  inquired  the 
woman. 

"Been  out  of  town,"  answered  the  man.  Then 
he  glanced  around  the  place. 

"Where's  Mabel?"  he  asked,  with  a  laugh. 

"She's  not  here  any  more,"  muttered  the  ne- 
gress. 

"What's  the  matter — sick,  is  she?"  asked  the 
visitor. 


82  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Nope;  worse.  She  croaked  a  couple  of  days 
ago,"  answered  the  woman. 

"Too  bad,"  answered  the  man.  "She  was  a 
pretty  girl.  Well,  that's  the  end  of  her,  I  guess. 
Got  any  new  ones?" 

"Yes,  we  got  one  in  today  to  take  her  place," 
answered  the  woman.  And  then  she  added,  with 
a  laugh:  "She  thinks  she's  in  a  swell  place  and 
is  going  to  have  a  big  time.  She's  a  beauty, 
though;  eighteen  years  old  and  raised  in  a  little 
town  down  state." 

"All  right,  run  her  out  and  let  me  see  her," 
broke  in  the  man. 

In  the  big  den  of  vice  there  was  no  mourning. 
The  mentioning  of  the  dead  girl's  name  was  for- 
bidden. The  thought  of  death  might  act  as  a 
damper  on  the  night's  orgie.  A  day  later  she 
would  not  be  missed.  Another  girl  would  take 
her  place.  Perchance  some  one  might  drop  in 
some  day  and  ask  for  her,  but  only  in  a  matter- 
of-course  way. 

Only  one  girl  in  80,000  dead.  What  did  she 
count  in  that  vast  host? 

One  day,  but  a  few  weeks  ago,  I  entered  one 
of  these  dens  on  Armour  avenue,  in  Chicago. 
I  wandered  up  on  to  the  second  floor  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  keepers.  An  open  door  at- 
tracted my  attention.  Peering  in  I  saw  a  young 
girl  lying  on  a  bed. 


TRAGEDIES  83 

Her  head  and  face  were  swathed  in  bandages. 

She  seemed  to  be  in  great  pain.  On  a  table 
near  at  hand  were  several  bottles  of  medicine. 
She  was  without  a  nurse  and  alone  in  the  room. 

I  asked  her  what  was  the  matter,  but  she  only 
shook  her  head  and  refused  to  answer.  I  per- 
sisted. After  much  persuasion  she  lifted  an  edge 
of  the  bandage  and  exposed  her  face. 

It  was  a  mass  of  burns. 

Before  I  could  inquire  further  a  negress  keep- 
er entered  the  room. 

"You  can't  stay  in  here,"  she  said  angrily. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  girl?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  she  got  foolish  the  other  day  and  took 
a  dose  of  carbolic  acid,"  was  the  answer.  "She 
ain't  burned  bad — at  least  not  as  bad  as  I've  seen 
lots  of  them.  Don't  give  her  any  of  that  soft 
home  talk  and  she'll  get  over  it  all  right  in  a  cou- 
ple of  days." 

With  this  the  woman  held  the  door  open  and 
motioned  for  me  to  leave. 

In  the  early  morning,  three  days  later,  I  hap- 
pened to  pass  the  same  place.  A  wagon,  painted 
black  and  without  a  name  to  designate  its  owner, 
was  standing  in  the  road  at  a  side  entrance. 

I  stood  watching  for  a  few  minutes.  Presently 
the  door  opened.  Four  men  came  out  carrying 
between  them  an  undertaker's  stretcher.  On  it 
lay  a  body  covered  with  a  white  sheet. 


84  WHITE  SLAVE 

I  approached  and  asked  one  who  who  was 
dead. 

"Just  one  of  the  girls  here,"  was  the  answer. 
Then  he  added:  "Say,  but  she's  an  awful  sight; 
she  took  carbolic." 

He  pulled  back  the  sheet.  It  was  the  girl  whom 
the  negress  had  said  "got  foolish." 

"Where  are  you  taking  her?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  she  goes  over  to  the  county  morgue.  She 
ain't  got  any  money  and  the  house  didn't  want 
to  pay  for  her  burial.  No  one  knows  where  her 
folks  live  and  I  don't  expect  they'd  want  her  any- 
how if  they  found  out  what  she  was  doing  up 
here.    The  students  will  get  her,  I  suppose." 

"Hurry  her  up,  Joe,"  broke  in  another  one  of 
the  men  at  this  juncture;  "let  us  get  away  from 
here.  The  boss  inside  '11  be  sore  if  we  stick 
around.  He  ain't  anxious  to  advertise  the  fact 
that  he'd  had  a  dead  one  in  his  house." 

The  men  jumped  on  the  wagon.    The  horses 

started  on  a  trot  with  their  burden  towards  the 

county  morgue. 

*     *     *     * 

In  one  den  is  a  girl  who  has  saved  $5,000  from 
the  money  she  derived  from  the  sale  of  her  body. 
She  is  in  a  class  by  herself  in  this  respect,  for  but 
a  few  of  them  save  a  cent. 

This  girl  was,  a  few  years  ago,  a  stenographer. 
She  was  ruined   by   her    employer  and  finally, 


TRAGEDIES  85 

when  he  had  tired  of  her,  discharged  from  her 
position.  She  had  saved  nothing.  Penniless  and 
without  friends,  she  heeded  the  advice  of  an  evil 
companion  and  entered  a  house  of  prostitution. 

Every  cent  she  could  eke  and  scrape  she  has 
saved  since  she  entered  this  den.  Her  hope  was 
that  she  might  be  able  to  save  enough  so  that 
she  could  go  to  the  far  west  and  live  down  her 
past  life.  But  the  grasp  of  the  devil  held  her  to 
her  bargain.  When  the  time  came  she  found 
that  she  could  not  break  off  her  unnatural  hab- 
its. She  could  not  be  innocent  and  good  again. 
So  she  stayed  behind. 

"How  long  do  you  think  you  will  be  able  to 
keep  up  this  life?"  I  asked  her. 

"Oh,  four  or  five  years,  I  guess,"  she  answered 
between  puffs  of  a  cigarette  she  was  smoking. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  then?" 

"I'm  not  thinking  about  that  time,"  she  said. 

"When  I  get  worn  out  and  they  tell  me  they 
don't  want  me  here  any  more,  I'll  go  somewhere 
— I'm  not  worrying  where. 

"I'd  quit  now,  but  what's  the  use?  If  I  left 
here  every  one  would  be  kicking  me  do^vn  in  the 
gutter.  Now  suppose  I  wanted  to  be  good,  would 
mothers  you  know  want  their  nice,  innocent 
daughters  associating  with  me?  No,  you  know 
they  wouldn't.  It  would  be  only  a  couple  of 
weeks  and  then  I'd  be  back  again." 


86  tWHITE  SLAVE 

"Have  any  of  the  girls  in  this  place  saved 
money  except  you?"  was  asked. 

"There  isn't  a  girl  in  the  place  who  has  ten  dol- 
lars to  her  name  except  me,"  was  the  answer. 

"How  long  have  the  majority  of  them  been 
leading  this  life?" 

"Most  of  them  about  two  or  three  years.  You 
see,  this  is  a  'dollar  house.'  We  don't  get  many 
of  the  young  ones  in  here,"  was  the  reply. 

"How  are  you  paid  in  this  place?"  was  asked. 

"The  girls  get  half  of  what  they  get  from  men. 
Then  they  get  a  tin  check  for  two  and  a  half 
cents  for  every  bottle  of  beer  they  drink  with  the 
fellows  that  come  in.  They  have  to  accept  every 
drink  offered  them. 

"They  are  charged  five  dollars  a  week  for  their 
board  here  by  the  keeper  of  the  place.  They  have 
to  buy  all  their  clothes  through  him,  too.  They 
are  charged  big  prices,  so  they  don't  have  a 
chance  to  save." 

"What  does  the  average  girl  make  in  this 
place?"  was  asked. 

"Oh,  $12  to  $18  a  week,  I  guess.  They  have 
to  pay  their  board  and  for  their  clothes  out  of 
that,"  replied  the  girl. 

In  the  "red  light"  district  of  Chicago  is  an 
organized  "trust."  At  its  head  are  five  big  poli- 
ticians.   They  practically  control  the  district. 

The  trust  owns  a  dry  goods  store,  a  grocery 


TRAGEDIES  87 

store,  a  delicatessen,  a  drug  store,  a  restaurant 
and  a  hotel.  It  has  its  own  manicure  parlors,  its 
own  dentist  parlor  and  its  own  doctors.  Every 
necessity  of  the  denizens  of  the  vice  ridden  dis- 
trict is  catered  to  by  this  company. 

The  girls  of  the  district  must  patronize  them. 
This  is  an  iron-bound  order  that  cannot  be 
broken. 

Suppose  that  a  girl  in  one  of  the  dens  wishes 
to  purchase  a  dress.  She  goes  to  the  dry  goods 
store.    There  she  makes  her  choice. 

Before  she  leaves  the  house  in  which  she  is  an 
inmate,  the  person  in  charge  there  gives  her  a 
slip  of  paper.  It  certifies  that  she  is  an  inmate  of 
that  house. 

She  hands  this  to  the  shop  keeper.  After  she 
has  made  her  purchase  she  is  handed  back  an- 
other slip.  On  it  is  marked  the  price  of  the 
dress.  It  is  always  double  or  triple  the  amoimt 
for  which  she  could  have  purchased  the  same  ar- 
ticle at  any  other  store. 

When  she  returns  to  the  house  she  turns  this 
slip  in.  At  the  end  of  the  week,  when  the  house 
gives  her  the  money  she  has  earned,  that  exorbi- 
tant charge  is  deducted  from  the  amount. 

This  conveys  but  a  small  idea  of  the  bondage 
system  that  holds  the  girls  of  the  district  in  its 
grasp.  The  exorbitant  prices  charged  the  girls 
for  commodities  keeps  them  constantly  indebted 


88  WHITE  SLAVE 

to  the  keeper  of  the  den  where  they  are  inmates. 
They  never  get  ahead. 

If  a  girl  attempted  to  leave  the  house  without 
satisfying  this  debt  her  clothes  would  be  taken 
from  her.  If  she  ran  away  she  would  probably 
be  arrested,  charged  with  theft  or  some  other 
crime.  Perjured  testimony  would  be  introduced 
against  her.  Her  word  would  count  for  little. 
In  court  she  would  be  regarded  as  a  fallen  wom- 
an. What  she  might  say  would  be  scorned.  A 
jail  sentence  would  be  the  result. 

This  is  one  of  the  many  reasons  why  few  girls 
leave  these  dens  after  they  have  once  become  in- 
mates. 

The  white  slaver,  who  hands  young  innocent 
girls  over  to  this  ghastly,  reeking  life,  is  not  a 
type.  He  may  be  a  prize  fighter,  an  army  officer, 
son  of  a  preacher  or  a  banker. 

A  year  ago  Chicago  was  startled  when  in  a 
round-up  of  these  local  drivers  of  white  slaves, 
the  young  man  Leonard,  son  of  a  banker,  skilled 
bank  clerk  and  idol  of  his  mother,  was  fined  $200 
and  costs  for  his  crime. 

It  was  a  former  officer  in  the  Hungarian  army 
who  but  a  short  time  ago  in  Chicago  showed  this 
hold  that  white  slavery  has  upon  the  slaver.  In 
this  case  the  man  Sterk  received  a  sentence  of 
one  year  in  prison.  Sterk  was  a  man  of  family. 
He  placed  Tereza  Jenney  in  a  resort  in  Buda- 


TRAGEDIES  89 

pest  and  was  living  upon  her  shame.  The  girl 
escaped  after  a  year  and  came  to  Chicago.  Sterk, 
deserting  his  family,  followed  by  the  next  boat. 
His  income  was  gone.  To  get  the  woman  bacM 
was  his  necessity. 

But  Sterk  made  a  faux  pas.  He  appealed  to 
the  government  to  deport  his  victim  and  made 
arrangements  to  return  with  her  on  the  same 
boat.  When  under  faulty  indictment  Sterk  es- 
caped the  United  States  court,  he  was  caught 
on  a  state  charge  and  convicted. 

In  many  cases,  however,  the  court  has  had  no 
chance  to  intervene.  The  girls  go  on  and  on  in 
their  lives  of  shame.  Disease  overtakes  them  In 
the  end.  Weakened  physically  by  their  ex- 
cesses, they  are  unable  to  cope  with  it.  Liquor 
and  cigarettes  leave  tell-tale  ravages. 

Hopelessly  battling  against  grim  disease,  the 
victim  goes  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  last  depths 
of  repulsiveness.  Her  only  hope  of  forgetting 
her  affliction  is  in  drunkenness.  She  loses  all  her 
womanly  instincts  and  is  a  fiend.  Finally  liquor 
fails  to  keep  her  in  that  state  of  stupor  in  which 
she  must  remain.  Cocaine  and  morphine  are  re- 
sorted to. 

One  day  she  regains  consciousness.  The  dark- 
ness of  her  horrible  existence  enshrouds  her.  Re- 
morse and  recollections  of  her  past  engulf  her. 
She  realizes  the  futileness  of  her  life. 


90  WHITE  SLAVE 

Then  comes  the  end. 

Maybe  it  is  by  the  aid  of  a  bottle  of  chloro- 
form; maybe  a  gas  jet  is  turned  on;  maybe  there 
is  the  lifeless  body  of  an  "miknown'*  woman  tak- 
en from  the  waters  of  Lake  Michigan  the  next 
morning. 

There  are  no  tears  wasted.  A  shrug  of  the 
shoulders  on  the  part  of  the  owner  of  the  resort 
— probably  he  swears  a  bit  when  her  name  is 
mentioned.  He  hates  to  have  such  things  hap- 
pen to  girls  in  his  place,  because  "people  might 
think  that  he  is  hard  with  people. 

The  murderer  goes  to  the  gallows  with  the 
priest  and  minister  at  his  side.  He  is  given  his 
chance  of  repentance.  He  is  given  religious  con- 
solation. 

To  the  fallen  woman — once  pure  and  innocent 
— dragged  to  her  shame  through  her  innocence — 
is  held  out  no  comfort.  She  is  not  given  the  op- 
portunity to  repent.  She  is  a  thing,  repellant 
and  abhorred.  The  very  mention  of  her  name 
brings  a  derisive  laugh.  No  masses  are  said  for 
the  repose  of  her  soul.  Religious  consolation  is 
not  to  be  thought  of. 

Her  obituary  is  the  notice,  hidden  among  the 
advertisements  of  the  local  newspapers. 

Notice :  The  body  of  Mabel  Gormly,  who  died 
on  November  15,  1909,  is  being  held  at  the  coun- 


TRAGEDIES  91 

ty  morgue.  If  the  same  is  not  claimed  by  rela- 
tives within  five  days  it  will  be  disposed  of  ac- 
cording to  law. 

Disposed  of  according  to  law  means  that  it  will 
be  turned  over  to  the  medical  schools  for  dissec- 
tion, or  if  the  body  is  not  fit  for  such,  will  be  cart- 
ed to  the  pauper's  graveyard  at  the  poor  farm. 

With  a  few  changes  in  minor  detail  this  tells 
the  story  of  the  five  thousand. 

It  tells  of  the  end  of  the  5,000  innocents  who 
yearly  are  lured  to  a  life  of  shame  in  the  city  of 
Chicago  alone. 

It  tells  the  story  of  the  vacant  chair  at  the 
hearthside  of  many  a  home  throughout  the  coun- 
try. 

It  is  the  annual  tragedy,  repeated  not  once, 
but  5,000  times  yearly,  in  Chicago. 

The  end  is  the  dissecting  table — the  patter's 
field — the  lake. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Tragedy  of  the  Little  Lace  Maker, 
(ella  gingles'  own  story.) 

As  a  prelude  to  the  story  which  Ella  Gingles 
tells  for  herself  from  the  beginning  of  her  trip 
from  Ireland  to  America  and  her  horrible  expe- 
riences, the  following  letter  which  was  received 
by  Attorney  Patrick  H.  O'Donnell  from  her 
pastor,  is  printed. 

Larne  Manse,  Larne  Co.,  Antrim,  Ireland. 

29th  June,  1909. 
Dear  Sir: — 

Last  evening  two  American  ladies,  Miss  Hop- 
kins, of  Chicago,  and  Mrs.  Murphy,  of  ^linne- 
apolis,  called  upon  me  with  reference  to  the  poor 
young  girl,  Ella  Gingles,  whom,  like  a  chival- 
rous-hearted Irishman,  you  have  done  and  are 
doing  so  much  to  protect  and  defend.  I  laiow 
her  well,  her  father  is  a  member  of  the  Congre- 
gation of  which  I  am  minister,  as  were  his  an- 
cestors before  him.  He  is  a  large  farmer,  well 
off,  as  Irish  farmers  go  here  in  the  North  of  Ire- 
land, and  his  wife,  Ella's  mother,  is  an  exceed- 
ingly nice,  gentle-hearted  woman.  They  have  had 
a  large  family — thirteen,  if  my  memory  serves 
me — and  as  their  minister  I  christened  them  all 

92 


TRAGEDIES  93 

and  hare  seen  them  grow  up  from  infancy.  Ella 
was  frequently  under  my  roof,  as  she  was  on 
friendly  terms  T^dth  two  young  ladies — my  adopt- 
ed daughters — who  reside  mth  me.  I  always 
found  her  a  bright,  cheerful,  well-principled  girl, 
clever  in  many  ways  with  her  needle,  etc.,  and 
especially  in  the  art  of  crocheting  and  manufac- 
turing lace.  In  the  latter  branches  I  know  that 
she  won  prizes  at  our  local  annual  industrial  ex- 
hibitions in  the  to^Mi  of  Larne.  But  the  family 
being  large  and  their  not  being  particularly  pros- 
perous here  in  Ireland,  she  and  other  young 
members  of  the  famity,  like  many  other  young 
people  of  energ^^  and  enterprise,  have  sought  a 
land  of  better  promise  across  the  Atlantic  with 
sad  results  to  her  unfortunately.  As  I  have  said, 
she  is  the  child  of  respectable  and  well-off  par- 
ents. She,  herself  so  far  as  I  know,  has  always 
been  respectable  and  well  conducted  in  every 
way,  with  a  large  infusion  of  enterprise  and  de- 
termination in  her  character;  so  that  you  may 
proceed  in  your  generous  and  energetic  en- 
deavors in  her  behalf  mth  the  most  entire  con- 
fidence in  her  integrity  in  every  respect.  Accept 
for  yourself  and  convey  to  those  truly  Christian 
people  who  are  associated  with  you  in  the  defense 
of  an  innocent,  but  much-injured  young  girl,  the 
assurance  of  the  most  sincere  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration, not  only  of  the  writer,  but  of  the  sorely- 


94  WHITE  SLAVE 

stricken  parents  and  friends  of  poor  Ella,  and 
believe  me.  Sincerely  yours, 

J.  Kennedy, 
Minister  of  the  Old  Presbyterian  Congre- 
gation of  Larne  &  Kilwaughter. 
(Postmarked) :  "Larne,  Ireland,  Jmie  30, 1909." 


By  Ella  Gingles. 

It  is  a  long  and  hard  way  when  one  must  set 
forth  to  expose  one's  own  butchery,  shame  and 
misfortune,  but  I  feel  that  in  telling  this  story 
the  very  fact  that  I  have  been  a  victim  will  carry 
with  it  weight. 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  green  hills  of  Larne, 
from  the  wet  meadows,  glistening  with  the  rains, 
from  the  song  of  the  nightingale  in  the  gathering 
dusk,  the  sweetness,  the  beauty  of  that  green  is- 
land which  I  call  my  home  and  which  will  hence- 
forth be  my  only  home,  to  the  mire  and  filth  of  a 
criminal  court  in  the  city  of  Chicago,  to  the  un- 
speakable horrors  through  which  I  have  been 
dragged,  and  to  the  desperation  to  which  I  was 
driven. 

Yes,  this  is  a  very  far  cry,  from  sweetness  and 
light  to  mire  and  filth,  but  I  feel  that  in  justice 
to  myself  I  must  tell  this  thing  as  it  is.  I  do  not 
feel  now  as  if  this  mire  and  filth  had  touched  my 
person.  I  feel  today  that  although  I  have  been 
the  victim  of  human  fiends,  although  I  have  been 


TRAGEDIES  §5 

more  monstrously  abused  than  any  other  girl  of 
my  age  or  character  in  the  world,  I  myself  am  as 
clean  and  pure  as  on  the  day  when  I  left  that 
little  Irish  homestead  18  miles  from  Belfast  and 
came  to  America.  One  who  is  murdered  is  not  a 
murderer,  nor  is  one  who  is  outraged  a  person  of 
bad  character.  And  a  clean  mind  soon  forgets 
even  the  most  terrible  episodes,  the  most  awful 
happenings.  Yes,  I  will  forget  everything  that 
has  happened  and  become  again  the  girl  who  left 
Ireland  such  a  short  time  ago  to  become  a  victim 
of  fiends. 

There  are  things  that  one  must  try  to  forget, 
although  I  know  in  my  heart  that  my  sleep  till 
my  dying  day  will  be  haunted  by  the  pictures  of 
the  demons  who  have  worked  their  will  upon  me 
and  who  if  they  had  their  just  deserts  should  burn 
in  deepest  hades  forever.  But  I  will  forget,  I 
must  forget.    If  I  do  not  forget  I  shall  go  mad. 

They  say  that  I  have  been  cool,  calm  and  col- 
lected on  the  witness  stand  during  my  trial.  I 
have  been  cool,  calm  and  collected  because  I  was 
telling  the  truth,  but  the  reaction  from  those 
awful  hours  in  court  have  been  so  terrible  that  I 
shudder  even  yet  to  think  of  them. 

It  was  only  the  thought  of  the  green  hills,  of 
the  heather,  of  the  blossoms  in  Spring  and  the 
yellow  corn  at  harvest  time,  of  the  cuddling 
mother  love,  of  the  kindly  faces  which  will  not 


96  WHITE  SLAVE 

turn  away  because  I  have  been  tortured — just 
the  green  hills,  the  green  hills,  and  the  rains  and 
the  sunshine  and  the  light  and  the  purity — I  can 
say  no  more,  but  they  will  help  me  to  forget, 
they  will  help  me  to  become  again  the  girl  who 
won  the  lace  prizes  in  Larne  and  the  girl  who 
had  not  been  the  victim  of  fiends.  I  will  forget 
there.  I  could  never  forget  here.  America  has 
become  to  me  a  nightmare,  a  horror;  the  name 
stands  to  me  for  all  that  is  vile,  horrible,  unmen- 
tionable. 

I  am  telling  my  story,  not  because  I  have  any 
animus  against  anybody,  not  because  I  wish  to 
get  even  with  anybody,  not  because  I  wish  to 
clear  my  own  name,  because  I  believe  that  has 
been  cleared  before  the  world  by  the  solemn  edict 
of  a  jury — not  because  I  wish  to  create  or  to  have 
brought  forth  the  terrible  things  which  were  done 
to  me. 

I  am  telling  this  story  in  the  hope  of  saving 
other  girls,  who  like  myself  may  be  in  danger 
from  the  beastly  "slavers"  and  a  life  of  shame. 
If  I  can  but  save  a  few  girls  from  this  horrible 
fate,  if  I  can  only  help,  in  some  modest  way,  to 
protect  womanhood  from  the  horrors  of  white 
slavery,  I  shall  feel  happy  for  laying  bare  my 
soul  and  giving  to  the  world  the  true  story  of  the 
attempt  to  make  a  white  slave  out  of  me. 

I  feel  that  I  must  write  it,  that  American  girls, 


TRAGEDIES  97 

and  girls  of  foreign  birth  who  come  to  America, 
will  not  be  misled  and  trapped  as  I  was  into  the 
veritable  jaws  of  hell.  If  I  can  keep  a  single 
girl  out  of  this  hell  on  earth  by  telling  the  plain 
story  of  what  happened  to  me,  I  shall  feel  that  I 
have  done  my  duty  by  myself. 

I  am  told  by  men  who  know  about  these  awful 
things  that  my  case  is  only  one  of  many.  What 
happened  to  me  may  be  an  isolated  instance  and 
I  am  told  that  it  is  representative  of  the  work- 
ings of  the  panders  for  the  "upper  ring,"  or  the 
dealing  in  girls'  bodies  by  rich  men,  rather  than 
the  selling  of  girls  to  cheap  resorts  through  a 
quicker  route. 

I  feel  that  there  is  no  pit  too  deep  for  people 
who  will  send  an  innocent  girl  into  a  life  of 
shame,  who  will  throw  temptation  in  a  girl's  way, 
and  will,  when  temptation  fails,  resort  to  force  to 
drive  her  into  hades  itself. 

I  was  born  in  Larne,  Ireland.  My  parents  are 
respectable  middle  class  people  and  property 
owners.  Our  family  is  a  large  one,  there  being 
thirteen  children.  We  are  protestants,  as  are 
most  of  the  people  of  that  particular  district  of 
Ireland,  our  church  being  the  Presbyterian.  We 
have  always  been  members  of  that  churchy  as  the 
letter  from  our  pastor  shows. 

Larne,  the  city  where  I  was  reared,  is  a  little 
town  about  18  miles  from  Belfast.    One  of  the 


98  WHITE  SLAVE 

principal  industries  of  the  to^\Ti  is  the  making 
of  hand-made  Irish  laces.  I  was  brought  up  to 
the  lace-making  trade.  I  won  several  prizes 
against  the  best  lace-makers  in  the  Belfast  re- 
gion. I  have  invented  one  particular  lace  pat- 
tern of  my  own,  an  improved  "grape-vine  pat- 
tern." With  this  I  won  the  lace-making  prize 
in  Larne  on  the  occasion. 

In  Ireland  there  are  continual  tales  of  Amer- 
ica, how  easy  it  is  to  make  money  over  there.  I 
had  never  been  farther  away  from  Larne  than 
Belfast  in  all  my  life.  Many  Irish  girls  had  come 
to  America,  worked  for  a  time  and  returned  home 
with  money,  placing  herself  in  a  position  to  help 
out  her  parents  in  their  old  age.  These  stories 
attracted  me.  I  met  girls  who  had  been  to  Amer- 
ica. They  had  made  lots  of  money  and  had  fine 
clothes.  The  name  America  soon  came  to  mean 
to  me  a  golden  land  in  the  West,  as  it  has  meant 
to  many  another  simple  Irish  girl.  The  spell 
came  upon  me  so  strongly  that  I  could  think  of 
nothing  else.  I  could  see  nothing  but  a  golden 
land,  and  a  fortune  that  I  could  make  there  with 
my  laces,  for  I  had  heard  that  fabulous  prices 
were  paid  for  Irish  laces  in  America.  I  begged 
my  people  to  let  me  go  to  America.  After  much 
pleading  they  gave  their  consent. 

I  was  about  to  purchase  my  ticket  in  Belfast 
when  word  reached  me  that  Belle  Raymond,  a 


TRAGEDIES  99 

girl  I  knew  in  Belfast  and  who  had  abeady  pur- 
chased her  ticket  but  had  been  taken  ill,  would 
be  unable  to  make  the  trip.  I  thought  I  might 
get  this  ticket  a  little  cheaper.  I  did  save  quite 
a  little  by  purchasing  her  ticket,  but  I  was 
obliged,  on  account  of  the  registration  of  her 
name,  to  come  under  her  name.  My  enemies  have 
made  much  of  the  fact  that  I  had  gone  under 
Belle  Raymond's  name.  I  am  sorry  now  that  I 
did  it  after  all  that  has  come  out  in  connection 
with  my  terrible  experiences.  But  I  hope  I  will 
not  be  too  severely  blamed  for  doing  what  so 
many  other  people,  even  business  people  of  integ- 
rity, have  been  known  to  do.  To  travel  on  an- 
other person's  pass  is  undoubtedly  wrong,  but  it 
is  not  a  heinous  crime. 

Belle  Raymond's  ticket  was  for  Canada  and 
not  for  America  direct,  but  to  my  mind  all  the 
countries  over  here  were  just  alike,  and  as  long 
as  one  landed  on  the  west  side  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean,  I  was  satisfied.  It  was  all  a  land  of  gold 
to  me.  So  I  went  to  Montreal  on  the  ticket  of 
Belle  Raymond. 

On  ship-board  I  made  several  acquaintances 
among  the  other  Irish  girls  on  board,  and  they 
told  me  that  the  best  way  to  get  a  start  on  this 
side  of  the  water  was  to  get  a  position  as  maid 
to  some  great  lady  and  then  interest  her  in  lace- 
making.    Then,  they  said,  I  could  soon  build  up 


100  WHITE  SLAVE 

a  good  trade  for  my  laces  among  the  people  who 
had  plenty  of  money  to  pay  for  them.  They  said 
that  any  attempt  to  sell  laces  outright  would  end 
in  failure,  as  not  one  person  in  100  knew  real 
Irish  lace  when  they  saw  it,  and  they  would 
think  that  I  was  a  fraud  unless  some  great  lady 
vouched  for  me, 

I  did  not  land  directly  in  Montreal.  The  last 
stage  of  the  journey  I  performed  by  train  from 
Quebec,  where  I  left  the  steamer.  I  spent  half  a 
day  in  Quebec  viewing  the  sights  of  the  city  in 
company  with  several  other  girls.  I  then  took  the 
train  for  Montreal  where  I  went  directly  to  the 
Young  Women's  Guild  home,  where  I  knew  I 
would  be  safe.  The  Guild  secured  me  a  posi- 
tion with  the  Thornton  family  in  Belleville,  On- 
tario. 

I  was  overjoyed  when  I  found  that  I  was  go- 
ing into  a  great  rich  family,  for  they  told  me  that 
Mrs.  Thornton's  father  was  worth  many,  many 
millions  of  dollars,  and  that  he  controlled  the 
roller  mill  business  in  Canada.  This  meant  that 
if  I  secured  Mrs.  Thornton  as  a  patroness  for 
my  laces  I  could  get  all  the  rich  ladies  to  buy. 

Disappointment  awaited  me  and  my  dreams 
were  shattered.  I  worked  nine  months  as  a  house- 
maid. Mrs.  Thornton  was  not  approachable  by 
servants,  although  she  was  uniformly  kind  and 
considerate. 


TRAGEDIES  101 

At  the  Thornton  home  the  disillusions  as  to  the 
golden  land  began  to  disappear  rapidly  and  my 
life  settled  down  to  the  humdi'um  of  a  house- 
maid's life.  My  dreams  were  shattered.  I  was 
tempted  to  do  wrong  on  numerous  occasions. 
Disheartened,  I  finally  left  the  services  of  the 
family.  I  was  given  a  letter  certifying  to  my 
good  character  when  I  quit. 

But  there  was  no  chance  to  get  started  with 
my  lace-making.  I  thought  perhaps  it  was  be- 
cause Belleville  was  too  small  a  place  and  that 
therefore  I  would  do  better  if  I  could  get  a  place 
in  a  big  city  where  I  might  get  a  position  as  lace- 
maker  in  some  of  the  big  stores  I  had  heard 
about. 

I  went  to  Toronto  where  I  worked  for  about 
three  weeks.  At  the  end  of  this  time  I  had  al- 
most given  up  hope  of  doing  anything  with  my 
lace-making,  I  was  heartsick  and  almost  ready 
to  go  home.  I  had  saved  up  a  httle  money,  how- 
ever, enough  to  take  me  to  Chicago  or  some  big 
city  in  the  United  States,  and  still  have  $40  or 
$50  left  with  which  to  support  myself  until  I 
could  get  work  of  some  kind.  I  was  on  the  point 
of  going  back  home  to  Ireland  at  first,  but  the 
thought  that  I  would  get  there  just  about  penni- 
less, and  without  having  done  well  on  this  side, 
and  the  thought  of  what  the  neighbors  would  say 
and  how  the  other  girls  would  laugh  at  me,  finally 


102  WHITE  SLAVE 

decided  me  to  come  to  Chicago  and  make  one  last 
trial  at  what  the  Americans  call  "making  good" 
before  I  gave  up  all  hope.  This  fatal  decision 
was  my  ruin.  Had  I  been  able  to  see  ahead  just 
a  little,  to  have  looked  into  that  awful  hell-pit 
of  a  Wellington  hotel — ^but  there.  God  ruled 
otherwise  and  perhaps  chose  me  out  as  an  ex- 
ample and  warning. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  First  Night. 

I  was  practically  penniless  when  I  arrived  in 
Chicago.  I  knew  no  one.  The  magnitude  of  th^ 
'^ity  was  fearful  to  me.  For  hours  I  wandered 
about  knowing  not  where  to  go.  Exhausted  and 
frightened,  I  at  last  sought  shelter  in  a  railway 
station.  The  matron  there  was  kind  and  talked 
encouragingly  to  me.    She  soon  knew  my  story. 

She  took  me  to  the  Young  Women's  Christian 
Association  and  obtained  a  room  for  me.  In  a 
few  days  the  officers  of  the  association  obtained 
a  position  for  me  as  a  maid  at  the  Wellington 
hotel.    For  five  weeks  I  was  happy. 

In  the  Wellington  hotel  was  the  lace  store  of 
Agnes  Barrett.  Fine  Irish  laces  were  on  exhi- 
bition. The  wealthy  women  of  the  city  patron- 
ized the  place  and  almost  fabulous  prices  were 
paid  for  the  tiny  bits  of  laces  on  exhibition. 

Agness  Barrett  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in 
me.  When  she  learned  that  I  could  make  the 
laces  and  had  won  numerous  prizes  she  was  de- 
lighted.   She  asked  me  to  come  and  work  for  her. 

I  was  overjoyed  at  the  opportunity.  She  told 
me  that  all  I  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  sit 
m  the  store  and  make  laces.     She  said  that  it 

103 


104  WHITE  SLAVE 

would  give  the  establishment  an  atmosphere  in 
the  sight  of  the  grand  dames.  That  when  they 
came  to  the  store  to  make  purchases  and  saw  me 
sitting  at  work  making  the  laces  before  their  eyes, 
it  would  greatly  increase  the  value  of  them.  I 
then  went  to  live  with  Mrs.  Linderman,  a  kind, 
motherly  woman,  who  lived  at  474)  La  Salle  ave- 
nue. 

For  a  long  time  I  was  happy.  Then  Miss 
Barrett  told  me  that  business  was  slack  and  that 
she  could  not  employ  me  steadily.  After  that, 
however,  I  was  in  the  store  quite  often.  Miss 
Barrett  seemed  to  take  a  great  liking  for  me. 
She  was  so  kind  and  considerate.  She  petted  and 
fondled  me.  Mrs.  Cecilia  Kenyon  and  Miss 
Donohue  were  also  in  the  store.  All  of  the 
women  lived  in  the  Wellington  hotel.  Miss  Don- 
ohue was  secretary  of  the  hotel  company.  They 
all  seemed  to  be  very  prominent.  At  least  fine 
dressed  men  often  came  into  the  store  to  visit 
them.  They  went  out  to  dinners  with  them  and 
to  the  theatres. 

To  me  Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon,  who 
was  her  intimate  friend,  were  angels. 

Often  Miss  Barrett  took  trips  away  from  the 
city.  She  said  at  those  times  that  she  was  going 
to  French  Lick  Springs,  Ind.,  where  she  had  an- 
other lace  store.    When  she  returned  she  would 


TRAGEDIES  105 

show  me  rolls  of  bills  which  she  said  were  the 
profits  from  the  store. 

She  told  me  that  if  I  were  only  "wise"  like 
she,  I  could  have  fine  clothes  and  not  have  to 
work  much.  She  said  that  lots  of  nice  men  with 
plenty  of  money  were  looking  for  nice  girls  like 
me,  to  make  wives  of  them. 

Her  feeling  towards  me  seemed  to  change  al- 
most in  a  day. 

I  became  afraid  of  her.  After  these  outbreaks 
I  only  went  to  the  store  when  I  was  compelled 
to  do  so.  When  I  did  go  she  would  be  extrav- 
agant in  her  praises  of  me. 

But  all  this  only  leads  up  to  the  first  night. 

That  awful  night,  January  4,  1909,  will  haunt 
me  to  my  grave.  It  was  as  if  the  deepest  pit  of 
the  very  deepest  hell  had  suddenly  been  trans- 
ferred to  earth  and  found  lodgment  in  Chicago. 

This  night  is  hard  for  me  to  describe.  That 
I  must  bare  the  awful  sights  to  which  I  was  wit- 
ness would  be  inexcusable  if  I  were  not  trying  to 
save  other  girls  from  the  awful  fate  which  awaits 
them  if  they  come  to  the  big  cities  of  America 
trustful  and  innocent. 

It  is  left  for  you  who  read  this  whether  my  at- 
tempt to  save  others  from  my  dreadful  fate  is 
justifiable. 

After  the  orgies  which  had  taken  place  while 
I  was  lying  helpless  and  frightened  so  that  I 


106  WHITE  SLAVE 

could  scarcely  move,  I  was  told  that  I  must  be 
Miss  Barrett's  slave  for  six  months.  The  price 
for  my  slavery  was  to  be  $25  cash  down,  and 
$5.00  a  day  for  the  term  of  slavery.  I  fought 
and  screamed  again  at  this  and  said  if  they  did 
not  let  me  have  my  clothes  and  get  out  of  there 
I  would  get  a  detective  and  see  what  could  be 
done.  They  both  then  told  me  that  I  could  not 
get  a  detective  at  that  hour  of  the  night. 

I  was  turned  out  of  that  hotel  near  midnight 
in  the  rain  mthout  a  cent  of  money  in  my  pock- 
ets, bleeding  from  the  outrages  from  which  I  had 
suffered  and  forced  to  run  all  the  way  to  my 
home  in  the  rain. 

I  cannot  describe  the  horrible  scenes  which  took 
place.  I  cannot  even  bear  to  think  of  them.  I 
only  know  that  I  fought  and  screamed  and 
screamed  until  they  took  me  to  a  bath  room  and 
threatened  to  cut  me  to  pieces.  They  did  cut  me. 
I  kicked  and  fought  and  fought  and  kicked  and 
screamed  until  they  administered  what  they 
called  "knock-out"  drops  to  me  and  until  they  cut 
me  on  the  arms,  face  and  limbs.  It  was  only 
when  I  became  unconscious  from  the  drug  that 
I  ceased  fighting  them.  I  fought  them  even 
when  they  had  me  tied  to  the  bath  tub. 

The  man  torturer  I  did  not  recognize.  He 
M'^as  not  the  man  in  the  velvet  mask  who  tortured 
me  on  the  first  night.    He  was  smaller.    Mr. 


TRAGEDIES  107 

O'Shaughnessey,  my  lawyer  at  my  trial,  demand- 
ed that  the  state  in  prosecuting  me  produce  a  man 
named  Rohr  and  asked  one  of  the  witnesses  if 
they  knew  a  man  named  Anhaltz  or  Anhalt.  I 
,do  not  know  if  either  of  these  was  the  man  who 
held  me  on  either  occasion. 

I  do  know,  however,  that  the  cutting  was  done 
by  Miss  Barrett  herself,  and  she  threatened  me 
savagely  several  times,  declaring  that  she  would 
cut  my  heart  out.  The  records  of  my  sworn  tes- 
timony, both  in  affidavits  and  at  the  trial  show 
this. 

It  was  while  I  was  being  tortured  that  the 
name  of  a  man  named  Taggart  was  first  heard 
by  me.  Miss  Barrett  said,  "If  Tom  Taggart 
could  only  see  her  now."  This  I  swore  to  on  the 
witness  stand  in  my  trial  for  stealing  lace  which 
I  made  myself  and  I  am  ready  to  swear  to  it 
again.  Then  there  was  something  said  about  the 
"Springs,"  and  Miss  Barrett  said,  "You  know 
I  promised  to  get  them  girls  like  this  one."  I 
was  frightened  to  death  by  this  time  and  did  not 
know  what  to  expect. 

The  story  of  the  horrors  of  those  awful  nights 
of  torture  I  will  never  forget.  I  can  not  repeat 
the  happenings  of  those  nights. 

To  tell  that  part  of  the  story,  I  present  to  the 
reader  two  affidavits  which  I  made  as  I  lay,  suf- 
fering from  my  awful  treatment,  on  a  cot  at  the 


108  WHITE  SLAVE 

Frances  Willard  Memorial  hospital.     They  are 
the  substance  of  my  testimony  in  court : 
STATE  OF  ILLINOIS,  \ 
County  of  Cook.  jSS. 

Ella  Gingles,  being  first  duly  sworn,  deposes 
and  says : 

That,  about  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of 
January  4th,  1909,  she  returned  from  a  trip 
down-town  to  her  room  at  474  La  Salle  Avenue, 
Chicago,  and  there  found  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 
Madame  Barette,  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  waiting. 

That  they  said  they  had  been  waiting  about 
four  hours  for  her  but  that  she  found  afterwards 
they  had  been  waiting  about  an  hour;  that  they 
told  this  affiant  they  had  come  out  there  in  a 
cab,  but  dismissed  the  cab  before  affiant  arrived 
home,  which  was  near  seven  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing ;  that  they  came  up  to  affiant's  room  and  that 
Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  asked  af- 
fiant to  give  her  a  collar  that  affiant  had  been 
enlarging  for  her  and  affiant  told  her  she  had  not 
yet  finished  it,  to  which  she  replied  that  the 
woman  to  whom  it  belonged  was  about  to  leave 
town  and  could  not  wait  for  it. 

Affiant  then  went  to  the  bureau  and  took  out 
the  collar  and  gave  it  to  her,  when  she  said  that 
she  wanted  the  rest  of  the  lace,  and  affiant  told 
her  she  had  not  given  affiant  any  more  lace  to 
do;  she  then  said  that  if  affiant  did  not  give  her 


TRAGEDIES  109 

the  lace  she  would  take  it  and  search  the  room, 
whereupon  affiant  says  that  they,  the  two  women 
aforesaid,  did  search  affiant's  room  and  took  all 
the  lace  affiant  had  except  what  was  in  her  Httle 
work-box,  which  they  did  not  touch. 

That  they  took  a  yard  of  crepe  lace  that  was 
an  original  design  and  with  which  affiant  won  a 
prize  in  Belfast,  a  plate  mat  that  was  an  original 
design,  and  with  which  affiant  won  a  prize  in 
Larne,  Ireland,  and  a  necklace  with  an  amethyst 
drop  of  a  few  stones  that  affiant's  mother  bought 
for  her  in  London  and  gave  her  the  Christmas 
before  affiant  left  home,  at  which  time  she  bought 
another  with  blue  stones  and  gave  it  to  affiant's 
other  sister ;  that  they  also  took  all  the  money  that 
affiant  had,  consisting  of  a  Canadian  dollar,  four 
American  paper  dollars  and  a  dollar  in  change, 
took  affiant's  watch,  her  bank  book  showing  a  de- 
posit of  forty  dollars  in  Canada,  and  a  sofa  top 
and  cushion  and  many  other  things. 

Affiant  further  says  that  said  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  then  asked  her  to  let  her 
look  at  affiant's  trunk,  in  which  affiant  then  told 
her  she  had  nothing  of  hers,  but  which  she  in- 
sisted upon  seeing;  affiant  then  went  to  Mrs. 
Linderman,  the  landlady,  and  got  a  candle  and 
took  the  aforesaid  two  women  down  in  the  base- 
ment and  opened  the  trunk. 

Mrs.  Kenvon  held  the  candle,  and  Agnes  Bar- 


110  WHITE  SLAVE 

rett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  went  through  affi- 
ant's trunk  and  took  a  pair  of  long,  white  stock- 
ings, a  pair  of  white  gloves,  some  chiffon,  and 
then  Mrs.  Kenyon  dropped  grease  from  the  can- 
dle all  over  anything  of  any  value  and  the  two 
women  aforesaid  then  tramped  the  rest  of  the 
clothes  into  the  floor,  ruining  them. 

Affiant  further  says  that  up  to  that  time,  Ag- 
nes Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  did  not  claim 
that  any  of  the  stuff  was  stolen,  but  that  after 
she  brought  what  was  downstairs  upstairs  and 
put  all  of  it  into  a  pillow-slip,  she  said  to  affiant, 
"Sure  this  is  all  mine."  Affiant  says  that  among 
the  things  which  they  took  were  five  medallions, 
seven  of  which  affiant  still  possess,  having  been 
made  twelve  in  number  for  a  Roman  Catholic 
altar  cloth. 

Affiant  further  says  that  after  remaining  in 
the  room  for  two  hours  or  more,  joking  and 
laughing  and  fooling  away  time,  that  some  time 
after  nine  o'clock  this  affiant  was  ordered  to  take 
up  the  bag  that  they  had  filled  with  affiant's  own 
goods  and  carry  them  down  to  the  Wellington 
Hotel,  and  this  affiant  went,  carrying  them  down 
on  the  promise  that  when  they  got  to  the  Well- 
ington Hotel  the  stuff  would  be  given  back  or 
the  ownership  settled. 

This  affiant  says  she  went  down  that  she  might 
settle  her  dispute  with  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 


TRAGEDIES  111 

Madame  Barette,  and  bring  back  her  own  stuff 
to  her  own  home ;  that  the  three,  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  Mrs.  Kenyon  and  this  af- 
fiant, reached  the  WelKngton  Hotel  and  went 
into  the  room  of  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Mad- 
ame Barette,  some  time  in  the  neighborhood  of 
half -past  nine  o'clock,  or  maybe  somewhat  later, 
having  gone  down  in  the  street  car;  and  that 
when  they  went  in  Mrs.  Kenyon  locked  the  door 
to  the  said  Barrett  room. 

The  two  women  then  whispered  together  in  a 
low  tone  and  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Bar- 
ette, asked  this  affiant  to  take  off  her  clothes,  and 
she  refused. 

Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  then 
said  to  affiant,  "You  might  have  something  that 
belongs  to  me,"  to  which  affiant  replied  that  she 
did  not,  whereupon  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 
Madame  Barette,  said,  "I  will  take  them  off  for 
you,"  and  she  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  then  took  off 
affiant's  clothes,  stripping  her  with  the  exception 
of  her  shoes. 

Affiant  says  that  in  taking  off  the  waist  a 
safety  pin  in  affiant's  back  hurt  her  and  she 
screamed,  whereupon  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 
Madame  Barette,  seized  this  affiant  by  the  throat 
and  told  her  she  would  choke  her  to  death  if  affi- 
ant made  any  outcry. 

After  stripping  affiant,  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 


112  WHITE  SLAVE 

Madame  Barette,  said  to  Mrs.  Kenyon,  "If  only 

" " — and  another  man  whose  name  affiant 

does  not  remember — "were  here  now  to  see  this," 
and  Mrs.  Kenyon  said,  "Who  are  they,"  to  which 
she  replied,  "They  are  the  men  that  I  told  you 
about." 

The  affiant  says  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame 
Barette,  said  to  her,  "I  know  a  nice  gentleman 
that  wants  to  get  you  to  live  with  him,"  to  which 
affiant  replied  that  she  did  not  want  to  get  mar- 
ried, upon  which  the  two  women  laughed  and 
said,  "Nobody  is  asking  you  to  get  married ;  you 
would  only  have  to  live  with  someone  a  little 
while  and  you  would  get  plenty  of  money  for 
it." 

Affiant  further  says  that  said  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  then  told  Mrs.  Kenyon 
to  hold  this  affiant,  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  grabbed 
her  from  behind,  putting  her  arms  through  affi- 
ant's arms  from  behind. 

The  affiant  also  says  that  Agnes  Barrett  then 
said,  "She  will  do." 

Miss  Barrett  went  to  the  telephone  and  called 
up  Miss  Donohue's  room.  Miss  Donohue  was 
not  in  her  room. 

(The  affidavit  follows  for  four  pages  of  revolt- 
ing details.) 

Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon,  she  says,  were 
unclothed,  a  short  time  later  when  a  man  came  to 


TRAGEDIES  118 

the  room.  When  he  knocked,  affiant  says,  the 
two  women  put  on  night  gowns  and  left  her  en- 
tirely uncovered.  She  says  Miss  Barrett  asked 
him  what  kept  him  when  he  was  allowed  to  enter 
the  room  and  he  replied  he  could  not  get  there 
any  sooner. 

She  says  his  face  was  covered  with  a  black 
mask. 

Affiant  says  he  attacked  her  and  was  assisted 
in  this  by  Mrs.  Kenyon. 

The  affiant  says  that  after  some  time  the  tele- 
phone rang  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  answered  it  and 
it  was  for  the  man  and  he  called  up  and  said,  "Is 
that  you,  Charley?" 

The  affiant  says  she  does  not  know  what  was 
said  back  but  that  the  man  then  said,  "Yes,  she 
is  here,"  and  he  told  this  man  over  the  phone, 
"Yes,  it  is  all  right,  Charlie,  she  is  here,"  and 
added  that  he  would  be  back  soon. 

He  then  said  over  the  telephone,  "Yes,  I  will 
just  come  right  away,"  and  that  after  that  he  put 
on  his  clothes  and  left,  but  that  Agnes  Barrett 
and  Mrs.  Kenyon  remained  in  the  room. 

The  affiant  further  says  that  before  the  man 
went  out  Agnes  Barrett  asked  him  when  he 
would  give  her  the  money  and  he  said,  "Well, 
sure,  we  are  to  come  tomorrow  night,"  and  added 
that  he  would  bring  the  money  then  and  then  left. 
The  affiant  says  that  she  then  asked  Agnes  Bar- 


fll4  WHITE  SLAVE 

rett  for  her  clothes.  These,  she  says,  were  given 
her  after  a  time. 

The  affiant  then  says  Miss  Barrett  told  her  to 
come  down  the  next  night  at  five  o'clock  and  of- 
fered her  a  silk  dress  if  she  would  do  as  she  bid, 
and  that  she  then  took  the  silk  dress  out  of  the 
wardrobe  and  showed  it  to  her,  but  affiant  re- 
fused it. 

That  she  then  said  that  if  affiant  would  come 
down  tomorrow  she  would  get  it  fixed  for  this  af- 
fiant and  that  she  would  have  things  ready  for 
this  affiant  to  go  down  to  the  Springs.  She 
further  told  this  affiant  that  she,  this  affiant,  was 
to  go  to  French  Lick  Springs  and  was  to  stay 
there  about  a  week. 

She  further  stated  that  while  this  affiant  was 
at  the  hotel  she  was  not  to  dress  in  the  morning, 
but  put  on  a  kimono  and  to  dress  in  the  evening, 
that  she  was  to  remain  in  her  room  in  the  after- 
noon. 

This  affiant  says  that  Mrs.  Kenyon  then  asked 
Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  what 
about  the  "last  one,"  to  which  she  replied,  "Well, 
they  have  tired  of  her;  they  had  her  long 
enough."  She  then  told  this  affiant  that  she  was 
to  do  whatever  she  would  want  her  to  for  six 
months  and  that  this  affiant  was  to  come  down 
there  the  next  day  to  sign  a  paper. 

She  told  this  affiant  that  she  was  to  be  down 


TRAGEDIES  115 

there  about  three  months,  and  that  she  then  was 
going  to  send  this  affiant  some  place  else,  but  she 
did  not  say  where,  but  said  that  this  affiant  could 
sell  lace  for  her  after  that. 

Affiant  further  says  that  she  did  not  take  any 
money  that  night,  but  that  the  said  Agnes  Bar- 
rett, alias  Madame  Barette,  promised  to  give  her 
back  all  the  things  she  took  from  this  affiant  if 
affiant  would  come  down  there  the  next  day  at 
five  o'clock. 

Affiant  says  that  when  said  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  gave  affiant  her  clothes, 
affiant  said  that  if  she  did  not  give  her  the  rest 
of  her  things  she  would  go  to  a  detective. 

Mrs.  Kenyon  said  that  affiant  could  not  get  a 
detective  at  that  time  of  night.  She  says  that 
night  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette, 
made  her  sign  two  papers ;  the  contents  of  neither 
was  read  to  this  affiant,  nor  was  she  allowed  to 
see  them,  and  the  condition  of  signing  the  papers 
was  to  get  her  clothes. 

The  affiant  says  that  Agnes  Barrett  then  held 
up  the  two  papers  and  said,  "Anybody  would  be- 
lieve me  with  these  papers  and  Mrs.  Kenyon." 
Affiant  says  she  then  asked  Agnes  Barrett,  alias? 
Madame  Barette  for  a  nickel  to  ride  home,  as 
she  had  kept  all  of  affiant's  money,  and  she  re- 
fused it  and  said  the  walk  would  do  affiant  good. 
That  when  affiant  went  out  she  came  with  her  to 


116  WHITE  SLAVE 

the  elevator  and  said,  "Be  sure  and  come  tomor- 
row at  five  o'clock."  Affiant  says  that  she  then 
went  out  without  any  money  and  ran  home  most 
of  the  way. 

Affiant  says  that  on  the  next  day  she  did  not 
return  to  the  hotel,  but  went  and  told  Captain 
O'Brien;  that  the  enormity  of  the  situation  was 
such  that  she  could  not  tell  it,  and  told  the  first 
part  of  it;  that  she  did  not  reach  Captain 
O'Brien's  office  until  nearly  five  o'clock  in  the 
evening  because  she  was  ill  from  the  outrages 
and  indignities  and  sights  of  the  night  before; 
that  she  was  unable  to  go  out  until  late  in  the  day ; 
that  the  story  itself  was  so  horrible  that  she  did 
not  tell  it  to  any  man,  but  told  parts  of  it  to 
different  women  who  are  interested  in  her. 

I,  Ella  Gingles,  now  make  this  affidavit,  not 
to  save  myself  or  to  help  myself,  knowing  well 
that  my  ruination  is  well-nigh  complete  if  hor- 
rible sights  and  acts  and  degradations  that  I  can- 
not describe  can  work  my  disgrace;  and  I  make 
this  affidavit  not  in  revenge,  but  because  I  have 
been  attacked  twice  in  the  Wellington  Hotel  and 
because  I  know  that  no  girl  can  be  safe  who  like 
myself  has  no  protectors. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Arrested! 

After  the  horrible  outrages  of  January  4  I  did 
not  know  what  to  do.  I  was  without  money,  and 
I  would  have  been  without  food  if  Mrs.  Linder- 
mann  had  not  kindly  given  me  something  to  eat. 
I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  telling  any  one,  even 
a  police  officer  or  my  kind  landlady,  of  the  hor- 
rors of  that  night. 

Finally  on  the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  Janu- 
ary 8,  I  did  make  up  my  mind  that  I  would  not 
say  anything  about  the  horrors  of  the  case,  but 
would  go  to  the  chief  of  detectives.  Captain  P.  D. 
O'Brien,  and  tell  him  of  the  stealing  of  my  things 
from  my  rooms  and  ask  him  to  get  my  things 
back  for  me.  I  went  to  the  captain  and  told  him 
my  story.  He  seemed  impressed  by  it,  took  me 
to  his  home  that  night  for  supper,  lodged  me,  and 
the  next  day,  which  was  Friday,  ordered  the 
women  at  the  Wellington  hotel  to  bring  back  the 
things  which  they  had  stolen  from  me. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Friday  Mrs.  Kenyon,  who 
has  since  died  under  the  mysterious  circumstan- 
ces, came  over  alone.  Miss  Barrett  did  not  come. 
The  captain  ordered  her  to  bring  the  things  over 
with  her  and  to  have  MissBarrett  come  over  by 

117 


118  WHITE  SLAVE 

noon  of  the  next  day.  The  next  day  I  went  back 
to  the  captain's  office  and  they  both  came  over. 
They  brought  with  them  only  a  part  of  the  things 
they  had  taken  from  my  room  and  they  also  put 
in  some  things  which  had  never  been  in  my  room. 
I  told  Captain  O'Brien  so  when  I  looked  over  the 
lot.  We  went  over  everything  piece  by  piece, 
and  only  four  small  pieces  of  lace  was  there  any 
difference  of  opinion,  Miss  Barrett  admitting 
that  the  rest  of  the  things  belonged  to  me.  I  was 
allowed  to  take  them  away. 

Captain  O'Brien  then  asked  Miss  Barrett 
whether  she  was  going  to  prosecute  me  for  theft, 
and  asked  her  if  she  was  to  get  the  warrant  out 
before  all  the  offices  closed  so  that  I  could  get  bail 
that  night  and  would  not  have  to  spend  the  Sun- 
day in  jail.  Miss  Barrett  declared  that  they  had 
no  intention  of  pushing  the  prosecution,  and  we 
all  supposed  the  case  was  then  over,  except  my- 
self. I  intended  to  get  my  other  things  back  in 
time,  if  I  had  to  sue  for  them. 

We  all  then  left  Captain  O'Brien's  office.  I 
was  astounded  that  night  to  be  arrested  at  about 
eleven  o'clock  on  a  warrant  sworn  out  by  Miss 
Barrett,  charging  me  with  having  stolen  the  four 
pieces  of  lace  valued  at  fifty  dollars.  I  was  tak- 
en to  the  Harrison  street  police  station.  Here  I 
was  compelled  to  spend  the  night  in  a  filthy  cell. 

I  understood  later  that  it  was  the  next  morning 


TRAGEDIES  119 

that  Captain  O'Brien  called  up  Attorney  Patrick 
H.  O'Donnell  and  asked  him  to  come  down  to  the 
station  and  get  out  my  bond  and  take  up  my  case. 
Mr.  O'Donnell  did  come,  and  he  did  get  me  out 
on  bail  furnished  by  Samuel  Feldmann.  Mr. 
Feldmann  came  to  go  on  my  bail  at  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell's  solicitation  and  that  of  Captain  O'Brien,  as 
I  understand  it,  although  of  this  particular  point 
I  am  not  sure.  At  any  rate,  I  was  released  on 
bail  pending  a  hearing  on  the  charge,  which  sub- 
sequently took  place  in  the  municipal  court  be- 
fore Judge  Hume. 

Mr.  O'Donnell  kindly  took  me  to  his  home,  and 
his  wife  there  cried  over  and  mothered  me  and 
was  as  good  to  me  as  my  own  mother  could  have 
been.  Up  to  this  time  I  had  given  no  hint  of  the 
horrors  of  January  4.  I  could  not  bear  to  think 
of  them,  much  less  speak  of  them.  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell did  not  know.  No  one  except  those  present 
and  myself  knew  of  these  things. 

Then  the  people  of  Chicago  began  to  come  to 
my  aid  because  I  was  poor  and  friendless.  The 
Irish  Fellowship  Club  employed  Attorney  John 
Patrick  O'Shaughnessey  to  take  up  my  case  and 
investigate  it. 

I  was  taken  to  the  office  of  Mr.  O'Shaughnes- 
sey and  was  told  that  he,  as  well  as  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell, would  be  my  friend.  Mr.  O'Shaughnessey 
was  rather  cross  to  me  at  first  and  seemed  to 


120  WHITE  SLAVE 

doubt  whether  or  not  I  could  make  any  lace.  He 
seemed  to  fear  that  I  was  a  common  thief,  and 
not  a  real  lace-maker.  He  said  to  me,  "Can  you 
make  lace?" 

I  told  him,  "Yes,  I  can  make  lace  of  any  ordi- 
nary pattern  known  as  Irish  lace."  He  said  to 
me,  "You  sit  right  down  there  in  that  chair  and 
make  some  lace,  if  j^ou  can  make  lace."  I  replied 
that  I  had  no  thread. 

Mr.  O'Shaughnessey  then  sent  out  and  got 
some  thread  of  the  kinds  which  I  told  him  to  get, 
and  I  sat  down  and  worked  with  the  thread  for 
several  hours  making  lace.  At  the  end  of  the 
time  I  was  able  to  show  Mr.  O'Shaughnessey  a 
piece  of  the  grapevine  pattern,  which  is  well 
known  in  Ireland,  and  which  is  the  pattern  which 
I  used  when  I  won  my  prizes  in  my  native  home 
of  Larne  for  lace-making.  It  was  the  same  kind 
of  lace  which  I  had  made  on  one  or  two  occasions 
for  Miss  Barrett  at  the  Wellington  hotel.  The 
pattern  agreed  with  some  of  the  pieces  of  lace 
which  I  was  accused  of  having  stolen  from  the 
Wellington  hotel. 

This  exhibition  of  my  powers  to  make  lace  con- 
vinced Mr.  O'Shaugsnessey  that  I  was  not  a 
fraud,  and  that  I  could  do  what  I  had  claimed 
that  I  could  do.  From  that  time  forward  he  be- 
came my  active  friend  and  fought  hard  for  me 


TRAGEDIES  121 

clear  to  the  end  of  the  terrible  trial  to  which  I 
was  subjected. 

Subsequently  I  was  compelled  to  make  lace  in 
the  presence  of  a  number  of  ladies  who  were  in- 
terested in  my  case,  just  to  show  them  that  I  was 
not  a  fraud.  Every  one  seemed  to  be  suspicious 
of  me  until  I  had  proved  that  I  could  make  lace 
and  that  I  was  not  lying.  I  did  not  and  never 
have  had  a  single  friend  who  has  not  compelled 
me  to  give  some  definite  proof  or  other  either  as 
to  lace-making  abihty  or  my  character  since  this 
whole  horrible  matter  came  out. 

After  my  experience  in  proving  to  Mr. 
O'Shaughnessey  that  I  was  not  a  fraud  I  was 
taken  to  Mr.  O'Donnell's  home  and  there  cared 
for  by  his  wife.  Mrs.  O'Donnell,  who  seemed  to 
be  about  the  only  person  to  believe  in  me  from 
the  first,  even  when  her  husband  seemed  to  doubt 
me,  took  good  care  of  me  and  treated  me  as  if  I 
were  her  own  daughter.  After  Mr.  O'Donnell 
had  satisfied  himself  that  I  was  all  right,  and  that 
there  was  no  fraud  in  any  of  my  stories,  he,  too, 
was  very  kind  and  allowed  me  to  come  down  to 
his  office  to  visit  with  Miss  Mary  Joyce,  his  sten- 
ographer, who  used  to  chat  with  me  while  I  made 
lace  with  which  to  pay  at  least  a  part  of  my  obli- 
gations to  the  O'Donnells. 

It  was  here,  in  this  office,  away  up  in  the  air 
at  the  Ashland  block,  that  I  made  lace  day  after 


122  WHITE  SLAVE 

day.  I  could  only  make  one  or  two  collars  and  a 
tie  or  so  a  week,  but  that  little  brought  in  some- 
thing, as  I  had  some  exclusive  Irish  patterns  of 
my  own  which  attracted  trade.  These  patterns 
of  mine  could  not  be  duplicated,  at  least  in  Amer- 
ica, and  the  lace  which  I  made  has  always  attract- 
ed attention.  One  of  my  customers  for  the  lace 
which  I  made  at  this  time  was  Miss  Sarah  M. 
Hopkins  of  the  Catholic  Women's  League  of 
Chicago.  She  bought  several  ties  from  me  and 
became  interested  in  me  at  this  period  of  my  trou- 
bles, before  the  brutal  second  attack  at  the  Wel- 
lington hotel. 

When  Miss  Hopkins  and  other  ladies  became 
patrons  of  mine  I  thought  I  saw  a  way  to  make 
a  good  living  without  having  to  work  as  a  house- 
maid any  more,  and  that  I  could  use  the  trade 
which  I  had  learned  in  Ireland  to  good  advan- 
tage. It  was  the  first  chance  I  had  really  had  to 
show  what  I  could  do  since  I  had  left  the  old 
country,  and  I  felt  very  thankful  for  it. 

The  days  dragged  by  very  slowly  for  me,  for 
they  ke]:>t  putting  off  the  case  of  trying  me  for 
lace-stealing,  stealing  the  lace  I  had  made  my- 
self, from  time  to  time,  and  some  days  I  cried  and 
cried  because  the  case  was  not  over  and  I  was  not 
free,  because  I  did  not  believe  that  anybody 
would  convict  me  of  stealing  my  own  property, 
especially  after  the  manner  in  which  it  was  taken. 


TRAGEDIES  123 

I  remember  one  day  I  was  crying  my  eyes  out 
on  the  couch  in  Mr.  O'Donnell's  law  office  when 
Miss  Mary  Joyce,  the  best  girl  friend  I  have  ever 
known,  came  in  and  tried  to  quiet  me.  I  cried 
more  and  more  until  a  gentleman  came  in,  I  think 
he  was  a  reporter,  and  then  I  managed  to  quit 
crying  until  he  left.  Miss  Joyce  told  him  to  get 
out  of  the  place  until  I  was  quiet,  and  he  went. 
After  he  had  gone  I  began  to  cry  again,  and  Miss 
Joyce  said  not  to  cry,  that  some  time  soon  I 
would  be  back  in  Ireland  again  with  the  home 
folks.  That  only  made  me  cry  more,  because  I 
did  not  see  how  I  could  face  the  people  at  home 
after  the  terrible  things  that  had  happened  to  me 
and  after  I  had  been  arrested. 

Long  and  long  those  awful  days  dragged  out 
from  January  9  until  February  6.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  there  was  a  single  day  that  I  did  not 
cry  until  my  eyes  were  all  red,  and  I  know  that 
on  many  a  night  during  that  time  I  cried  myself 
to  sleep.  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  the  shame 
that  had  befallen  me,  although  I  knew  that  it  was 
no  fault  of  my  own  that  it  had  happened  to  me. 

It  was  all  a  nightmare.  My  nerves  were  break- 
ing gradually  under  the  terrible  strain. 

Then  came  my  hearing  before  Judge  Hume  of 
the  municipal  court.  I  was  arraigned  on  the 
larceny  charge  and  after  Miss  Barrett  and  I  had 
testified  my  attorneys  demanded  that  I  be  held 


124  WHITE  SLAVE 

to  the  grand  jury,  and  refused  to  cross-examine 
the  witnesses  for  the  prosecution,  so  convinced 
were  they  of  my  innocence. 

When  this  was  done  Miss  Barrett  was  heard 
to  say,  "Oh,  my,  this  is  awful."  This  remark 
was  overheard  by  Mr.  O'Shaughnessey  and  con- 
vinced him  more  than  ever  that  something  was 
being  hidden  and  that  I  was  not  the  thief  the 
WeUington  hotel  people  sought  to  make  me  out. 

During  this  trial  an  attempt  on  the  part  of 
Mrs.  Kenyon  to  coach  Miss  Barrett  while  she  was 
on  the  stand  brought  forth  some  strong  objec- 
tions from  Mr.  O'Shaughnessey,  and  Mrs.  Ken- 
yon was  compelled  to  stop  attempting  to  coach 
Miss  Barrett  from  the  floor  of  the  courtroom. 

When  they  tried  to  make  out  their  case  against 
me  at  this  hearing  they  brought  a  number  of 
pieces  of  lace  which  had  never  been  in  Captain 
O'Brien's  office  or  in  my  room,  and  I  said  so,  and 
Attorney  O'Donnell  promptly  had  them  im- 
pounded for  the  purpose  of  disproving  the  charge 
against  me  later  on.  He  would  not  let  them 
have  them  back,  nor  would  he  let  them  have  back 
a  pair  of  stockings  of  Miss  Donahue's  which  they 
said  I  had  stolen.  This  was  the  first  injection  of 
Miss  Donahue's  name  into  the  case,  but  it  was 
brought  in  later  after  the  second  attack  on  me  in 
the  Wellington  hotel. 

At  this  preliminary  hearing  I  was  held  on  the 


TRAGEDIES  125 

demand  of  my  own  people  to  the  grand  jury  and 
was  subsequently  indicted  on  their  demand  that 
I  might  be  enabled  to  effectually  clear  my  name. 
This  was  the  opening  of  the  larceny  case,  where 
the  alleged  theft  of  $25  worth  of  lace  has  caused 
the  expenditure  of  more  than  $38,000  all  told  in 
prosecution  and  defense  of  me,  a  Httle  Irish  work- 
ing girl. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Second  Orgy. 

The  second  affidavit  of  Ella  Gingles  covering 
the  incidents  of  the  second  night  following  her 
arrest  is  a  story  of  a  grewsome  tragedy.  It  was 
made  as  she  lay  on  a  cot  in  the  Frances  Willard 
Memorial  hospital  in  Chicago. 

The  affidavit,  signed  by  herself  and  sworn  to, 
is  as  follows: 

STATE  OF  ILLINOIS,! 

Comity  of  Cook.  J  ss. 

Ella  Gingles,  being  fii'st  duly  sworn,  deposes 
and  says: 

That  on  the  ninth  day  of  February,  1909,  she 
was  arrested,  charged  with  the  larceny  of  jewelry 
and  lace  in  the  city  of  Chicago,  and  that  the 
complaining  witness  was  one  Agness  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  and  that  on  the  following 
day  she  was  taken  out  on  bail  and  became  repre- 
sented by  Patrick  H.  O'Donnell  of  Chicago,  and 
a  day  or  two  thereafter  also  by  John  P. 
O'Shaughnessy.  The  affiant  further  says  that 
she  had  a  hearing  thereon. 

Your  affiant  says  that  on  Tuesday,  February 
16,  1909,  this  affiant  came  in  the  afternoon  to  the 

126 


TRAGEDIES  127 

office  of  Patrick  H.  O'DonneU,  911  Ashland 
block,  and  there  sat  in  the  office  making  lace  for 
one  hour  and  then  had  a  talk  with  Attorney 
O'Donnell  in  his  private  office,  and  then  left  his 
office  a  few  minutes  before  five  o'clock  p.  m.,  but 
stopped  at  the  elevator  in  said  building  to  talk 
to  Mr.   O'Donnell  and  Miss   Sarah   Hopkins. 

That  as  she  left  the  said  building  she  had  in  her 
pocketbook,  among  other  small  change,  a  five 
dollar  bill,  and  that  this  affiant  went  from  the 
office  to  the  store  on  State  street  known  as  Car- 
son, Pirie,  Scott  &  Co.,  and  went  in  there  and 
bought  a  spool  of  thread  for  crocheting  purposes, 
and  paid  forty  cents  therefor  and  gave  the  five 
dollar  bill  to  be  changed  in  making  said  pay- 
ment ;  and  this  affiant  says  she  is  ready  to  exhibit 
her  purchase  slip  showing  the  purchase  and  the 
amount  of  money  offered  in  payment  therefor; 
and  this  affiant  says  that  the  hour  of  said  purchase 
was  almost  five  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  six- 
teenth, and  that  as  this  affiant  approached  the 
door  of  said  store  a  cab  was  standing  at  the  curb 
and  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette, 
stepped  out  of  said  cab  and  started  toward  the 
store  and  left  a  man  sitting  in  the  cab  waiting, 
but  that  this  affiant  did  not  see  where  Agnes  Bar- 
rett, alits  Madame  Barette,  went,  or  did  not  see 
her  make  subsequent  purchases. 

This  affiant  further  says  that  after  making  said 


128  WHITE  SLAVE 

purchase  she  returned  home  to  her  room  at  474 
La  Salle  avenue,  Chicago,  and  there  placed  the 
one  key  to  the  door  of  her  room  in  a  secret  place 
where  her  sister  might  find  it,  and  which  place 
was  known  to  herself  and  her  sister,  and  the  se- 
cret place  was  on  the  stairs  under  the  stair  carpet. 

After  concealing  said  key,  and  before  the  sis* 
ter  so  returned,  and  after  entering  her  room  and 
turning  out  the  gas  stove,  she  retraced  her  steps 
and  started  back  to  room  545,  Wellington  hotels 
to  collect  from  a  Miss  Arnold  three  dollars  that 
said  Miss  Arnold  owed  this  affiant;  and  that  on 
two  separate  occasions  theretofore  this  affiant  un- 
dertook to  collect  said  money ;  once  while  in  com- 
pany with  Miss  Mary  E.  Joyce  and  later  while 
in  company  with  Mrs.  Bagshaw  and  Miss  Sarah 
Hopkins,  but  that  she  was  persuaded  not  to  try 
to  make  such  collections  by  both  parties. 

This  affiant  says  she  is  familiar  with  the  Wel- 
lington hotel  and  had  worked  in  said  hotel  for 
about  a  week,  and  while  she  worked  there  said 
Miss  Arnold  did  occupy  said  room,  and  that 
Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  lived  on 
the  second  floor  in  said  hotel,  in  room  number 
228;  and  that  this  affiant,  when  she  went  to  said 
hotel,  did  not  know  that  Miss  Arnold  had  moved 
out  of  room  545,  when  in  fact  she  had,  and,  as 
your  affiant  is  now  informed,  had  left  the  hotel 
on  the  12th  of  the  preceding  month. 


TRAGEDIES  129 

This  affiant  did  not  know  that  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  had  left  the  second  floor 
and  had  moved  up  into  the  identical  room  54)5, 
but  your  affiant  is  informed  that  such  is  the  fact. 
And  this  affiant  did  go  to  room  545,  believing 
that  she  was  approaching  the  room  of  Miss  Ar- 
nold and  not  knowing  that  she  was  approaching 
the  room  of  Agnes  Barrett,  abas  Madame  Ba- 
rette, and  knocked  on  the  door,  the  exact  time  of 
which  this  affiant  does  not  know,  but  believes 
that  it  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  half  past  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening.. 

This  affiant  says  that  a  man  stepped  out  of  said 
room  and  asked  this  affiant  what  she  wanted,  and 
this  affiant  said  she  wanted  to  see  Miss  Arnold. 
The  man  said,  "Is  it  about  anything  in  particu- 
lar?" and  this  affiant  said,  "It  is  about  lace,"  and 
the  man  said  that  she  was  expecting  this  affiant, 
and  to  wait  a  minute.  He  talked  to  somebody 
in  the  room  and  then  came  out  and  said  Miss 
Arnold  was  in  the  bathoom,  and  this  affiant  said 
she  would  wait  until  she  came  back. 

The  man  said  she  was  only  brushing  her 
clothes,  and  this  affiant  went  around  to  the  bath- 
room and  he  followed  her  around,  and  this  affiant 
knocked  at  the  door,  which  was  a  little  ajar,  and 
he  pushed  open  the  door  and  pushed  this  affiant 
in  the  bathroom  and  put  a  wet  handkerchief  in 
her  mouth,  on  which  handkerchief,  this  affiant 


130  WHITE  SLAVE 

says,  there  was  some  burning  stuff  that  was 
sweet,  and  it  was  "cold,  but  burning,"  after  which 
affiant  says  she  did  not  know  any  more. 

Affiant  says  that  this  was  not  the  bathroom  she 
was  subsequently  found  in,  but  was  the  bathroom 
around  by  Miss  Barrett's  room,  that  affiant  then 
thought  was  Miss  Arnold's  room. 

Affiant  further  says  she  does  not  remember 
subsequent  events  until  this  affiant  woke  up  lying 
on  a  bed  entirely  undressed  with  the  exception  of 
her  stockings,  and  was  being  guarded  by  a  man. 

This  affiant  asked,  "What  is  the  matter  with 
my  head;  what  is  the  matter  here,  and  what  is 
wrong?" 

The  man  answered  this  affiant  and  said,  "You 
are  in  Miss  Barrett's  room;  you  told  something 
that  Miss  Barrett  did  not  want  you  to  tell  and 
she  is  going  to  kill  you,  and  if  you  scream  we  will 
kill  you."  At  that  time  this  affiant  saw  nobody 
except  the  man  himself. 

He  said  he  was  going  after  Miss  Barrett,  who 
was  in  the  hall,  and  he  went  to  the  hall  and  locked 
the  door  after  him,  and  then  this  affiant  looked 
for  her  clothes  and  could  not  find  any,  but  found 
a  pocketbook  belonging  to  her  on  the  bureau,  and 
there  was  a  lead  pencil  in  it,  and  this  affiant 
wrote  on  an  envelope: 

"I  am  at  the  Wellington  hotel;  come  quick." 

But  did  not  sign  her  name  in  full,  merely  sign- 


TRAGEDIES  131 

ing  her  first  name,  "Ella,"  and  then  put  it  in  an 
envelope,  and  after  affixing  two  stamps  wrote  on 
the  outside,  "Bellboy  please  mail  this,"  and  then 
got  up  on  a  chair  and  threw  it  over  the  transom 
towards  the  next  door,  room  number  547. 

Affiant  says  that  the  reason  she  did  not  call  on 
the  telephone  was  because  she  did  not  remember 
Mr.  O'Donnell's  telephone  number  and  she  did 
not  see  any  telephone,  and  that  she  could  not 
have  called  on  the  telephone  anyway  if  this  man 
was  still  outside,  and  she  did  not  want  to  alarm 
him  or  notify  him,  because  he  said  she  was  not 
to  move  or  get  up,  and  said  that  he  would  kill 
her  if  she  got  up  from  the  bed. 

Affiant  says  that  at  this  time  she  had  nothing 
on  except  her  stockings,  and  that  when  she  got 
down  from  the  chair  she  put  Miss  Barrett's 
spread  around  her,  and  that  man  above  referred 
to  then  came  back  in  and  asked  her  what  she  had 
been  doing  and  she  replied  that  she  had  not  been 
doing  anything.  Affiant  says  that  the  man  then 
attacked  her.  When  she  screamed  the  man  hit 
her  on  the  head  with  his  fist  at  the  root  of  the  hair 
over  the  right  eye,  and  the  resultant  wound  was 
the  wound  found  on  her  by  the  doctors  later. 

Affiant  further  says  that  the  man  referred  to 
then  offered  her  ten  dollars  after  striking  her,  and 
tried  to  tear  the  spread  off  of  her,  but  that  this 
affiant  screamed  for  help,  and  that  the  man  then 


132  WHITE  SLAVE 

got  a  towel  or  some  cloth  and  bound  her  mouth 
with  a  gag,  and  that  this  affiant  could  not  prevent 
said  binding.  Miss  Barrett  came  in,  and  he  then 
sat  down  and  wrote  several  letters  or  papers  and 
watched  this  affiant  for  several  hours.  Late  in 
the  night  he  presented  some  paper  to  this  affiant 
to  sign  and  told  her  he  would  kill  her  if  she  did 
not,  but  this  affiant  does  not  know  what  the  paper 
was  and  has  never  heard  of  it  since. 

This  affiant  further  says  that  on  the  second  oc- 
casion that  the  man  attacked  her  this  affiant 
pulled  the  gag  off  her  mouth  and  screamed  for 
help  again,  but  the  man  bound  her  mouth,  and 
she  so  sat  with  her  mouth  bound  until  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Affiant  says  that  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door  and  the  man  put  out  the 
light  and  went  to  the  door,  and  that  Agnes  Bar- 
rett, alias  Madame  Barette,  and  another  woman 
came  in,  and  that  the  man  asked  the  said  Barrett 
what  kept  her. 

Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  then 
asked  the  man  if  this  affiant  was  there  yet,  to 
which  he  replied  yes,  and  that  then  the  afore- 
said Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  said 
that  she  could  not  help  staying,  saying  something 
about  a  game  of  cards. 

The  man  then  asked  the  said  Agnes  Barrett, 
alias  Madame  Barette,  if  she  brought  the  wine 
with  her,  to  which  she  replied  that  she  had,  but 


TRAGEDIES  133 

that  she  did  not  have  a  corkscrew,  and  asked  the 
man  if  he  went  out  to  straighten  up  the  bathroom, 
to  which  he  rephed  that  he  did,  and  said  Agnes 
Barrett,  ahas  Madame  Barette,  then  said  that 
she  went  into  the  bathroom  as  she  was  leavng  the 
hotel  and  found  a  hatpin  in  it,  and  that  was  all. 

AiRant  says  that  the  man  then  gave  the  said 
Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  a  pocket 
knife  with  a  corkscrew  in  it,  and  that  they  pulled 
the  cork  out  of  the  bottle  and  drank  some  of  the 
contents.  Affiant  says  she  did  not  know  what 
was  in  the  bottle  or  whether  the  wine  was  red  or 
white.  Affiant  says  that  the  said  man,  Agnes 
Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  and  the  woman 
that  came  with  her  as  aforesaid  had  lighted  a 
candle  before  they  opened  the  bottle,  and  that 
after  they  had  partaken  of  the  contents  thereof 
as  aforesaid  the  man  went  out  of  the  room,  but 
that  previous  to  that  he  offered  the  said  Agnes 
Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  fifty  dollars,  and 
that  the  said  Agnes  Barrett  said  that  was  not 
enough. 

Affiant  says  that  that  was  all  the  man  said  at 
the  time,  and  that  he  then  gave  to  said  Agnes 
Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  fifty  dollars,  who 
did  not  then  say  any  more,  but  took  the  money. 
That  the  man  then  went  out  of  the  room  and  took 
the  bottle  with  him,  and  also  the  candle  lighting 
the  room.  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette, 


134  WHITE  SLAVE 

then  turned  on  the  light  and  came  over  to  this 
affiant,  who  was  sitting  on  the  bed,  and  removed 
the  gag  from  affiant's  mouth  and  said  to  this 
affiant : 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  I  would  kill  you  if  you 
would  tell  your  lawyer  the  things  she  told  me." 

"I  did  not  tell  the  attorney,"  I  replied.  Agnes 
Barrett  then  asked  affiant  if  affiant  had  told  him 
the  man's  name  down  at  the  Springs,  to  which 
affiant  replied  that  she  had. 

She  then  said:  "Did  you  tell  that  interrupt- 
ing beast?" 

When  I  asked  her  who  she  meant,  she  said: 
"That  other  lawyer  of  yours." 

I  said,  "I  did  not  tell  him  anything." 

I  asked  her  who  brought  me  there,  saying  that 
she  did  not  remember  coming  there. 

The  man  then  came  in  and  said  that  he  was 
going  to  fix  my  head  and  give  me  something  for 
it.  They  asked  me  to  go  to  Miss  Donahue's  room 
and  I  refused. 

Affiant  further  says  that  Agnes  Barrett  then 
took  two  night-dresses  out  of  a  paper  and  put 
one  on  her  and  then  took  her  in  to  the  man  she 
claimed  was  a  doctor  to  the  bathroom.  The  oth- 
er woman  came  out  of  the  room  after  them  and 
locked  the  door  and  brought  the  key  with  her,  and 
that  they  then  all  went  into  the  bathroom. 

This  affiant  says  that  Miss  Donahue  was  talk- 


TRAGEDIES  135 

ing  over  the  back  transom  to  the  man  inside  the 
bathroom.  Affiant  says  that  a  candle  was  then 
lighted  in  the  bathroom  and  that  Miss  Donahue 
reached  a  little  bottle  through  the  transom  and 
told  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette, 
to  mix  it. 

Affiant  said  she  did  not  know  what  it  was  and 
refused  to  take  it,  whereupon  the  man  poured  it 
out  in  a  glass  and  put  it  to  this  affiant's  mouth 
and  made  her  drink  it.  Affiant  says  that  she  did 
not  know  who  the  man  in  the  bathroom  was  at 
that  time,  because  he  had  a  black  mask  tied  over 
his  face,  and  that  she  did  not  know  whether  this 
man  was  a  doctor  or  not,  but  that  Agnes  Barrett 
called  him  doctor. 

She  further  says  that  after  drinking  the  medi- 
cine or  drug,  as  above  stated,  she  became  sick, 
and  that  Agnes  Barrett  then  asked  the  man  if 
he  had  any  knockout  drops. 

The  man  repled  that  he  had  not. 

Agnes  Barrett  then  said  she  had  some,  and 
went  out  of  the  room  and  shortly  afterward  came 
back  with  what  appeared  to  be  candy.  They  then 
made  affiant  drink  more  of  the  aforesaid  wine  and 
then  told  affiant  to  eat  some  of  the  supposed 
candy  in  order  to  get  the  taste  out  of  affiant's 
mouth,  and  that  she  did  so. 

Affiant  says  the  supposed  candy  was  sweet  and 


136  WHITE  SLAVE 

was  hard  on  the  outside  and  soft  on  the  inside, 
and  was  of  a  greenish  color. 

She  says  that  after  this  she  could  not  keep  her 
eyes  open  and  could  not  remember  anything 
more,  but  that  they  were  still  in  the  bathroom, 
and  when  affiant  awakened  she  was  on  the  bath- 
room floor. 

(Here  the  affidavit  recites  the  revolting  details, 
unprintable  in  nature,  which  occurred  in  the  bath- 
room on  the  fifth  floor  of  the  Wellington  hotel.) 

The  affiant  says  that  when  she  awakened  she 
was  not  yet  tied,  and  that  the  man  had  his  coat 
off  and  his  face  uncovered.  Agnes  Barrett  was 
standing  in  the  room.  The  affiant  says  that 
Madame  Barette  cut  her  on  the  arms  and  wrists 
several  times.  She  says  she  struggled  and  that 
the  other  woman  then  asked  the  said  Agnes  Bar- 
rett why  she  did  not  tie  the  affiant's  hands,  to 
which  she  replied  that  she  did  not  have  anything 
there  to  tie  them  with,  but  that  she  then  got  the 
key  to  her  room  from  the  other  woman  and  went 
out,  and  returned  with  cords,  etc.,  and  that  the 
other  woman  then  held  the  affiant's  hands  while 
Agnes  Barrett  tied  them  behind  the  affiant's 
head,  and  tied  them  to  the  legs  of  the  bathtub, 
and  that  the  man  then  tied  the  affiant's  leg,  which 
the  aforesaid  Agnes  Barrett  held  until  he  tied* 
She  says  that  Agnes  Barrett  then  said  that  she 
had  not  got  enough  cords  with  her,  but  she  had 


TRAGEDIES  137 

a  piece  of  black  cloth  or  stocking,  or  something 
black,  with  which  she  tied  affiant's  leg,  and  also 
tied  her  ankle  with  some  sort  of  a  cord.  She 
says  that  her  left  leg  was  left  untied  and  that  her 
mouth  was  also  tied.  The  affiant  then  says  that 
the  man  and  Agnes  Barrett  then  both  attacked 
her. 

She  says  that  the  strange  woman  held  her 
shoulders  to  the  floor  and  Agnes  Barrett  held  the 
leg  that  was  loose  while  the  man  took  the  knife 
and  cut  her  several  times.  She  says  she  did  not 
bleed  freely  and  Agnes  Barrett  then  ordered  the 
man  to  cut  her  on  the  other  side.  The  man  then 
assaulted  her.  He  said  he  cut  her  to  arouse  his 
passions. 

She  says  they  were  in  the  room  for  some  time 
after  that  and  that  the  man  then  told  Agnes  Bar- 
rett to  go  for  his  overcoat,  and  she  said  for  him 
to  come  back  at  five  o'clock. 

Affiant  further  says  that  the  said  Agnes  Bar- 
rett, alias  Madame  Barette,  then  asked  the  man 
to  come  to  her  room  and  stay  the  remainder  of 
the  night,  but  he  said  no,  that  he  had  somebody  to 
see  before  he  left  the  city. 

Agnes  Barrett  then  told  the  man  to  be  there 
and  awaken  them  when  he  came  at  five  o'clock, 
and  not  to  sleep  late,  because  she  said  he  was  to 
have  a  cab  with  him  to  take  this  affiant  to  Louis- 
ville with  him. 


138  WHITE  SLAVE 

The  affiant  then  declared  that  she  would  not 
go  to  Louisville  with  the  man. 

Affiant  then  says  Agnes  Barrett  put  the  neck 
of  the  bottle  in  her  mouth  and  made  her  drink 
the  rest  of  the  contents,  and  also  gave  her  some 
more  of  the  supposed  candy,  and  then  tied  up 
affiant's  mouth  again. 

Agnes  Barrett  told  the  man  to  leave  the  light 
on  so  that  the  people  would  think  there  was  some- 
body in  the  bathroom,  and  they  then  left  affiant 
lying  drugged  on  the  floor  of  the  room. 

Affiant  further  says  that  the  man  then  climbed 
up  over  the  transom;  that  she  saw  him  get  up; 
that  she  saw  that  he  had  one  leg  over,  and  that 
she  then  could  keep  awake  no  longer;  that  she 
was  sleepy  and  did  not  know  what  happened 
after  that. 

Affiant  further  says  that  at  the  time  the  liquid 
was  poured  from  the  little  bottle  into  the  big  one, 
as  above  narrated,  that  the  man  told  said  Agnes 
Barrett,  alias  Madame  Barette,  to  scrape  the  la- 
bel off  the  bottle  and  she  took  the  knife  that  the 
corkscrew  was  attached  to  and  scraped  at  the 
label  of  the  wine  bottle. 

Affiant  further  says  that  after  the  man  had  at- 
tacked this  affiant  the  first  time,  as  hereinbefore 
narrated,  that  the  said  Agnes  Barrett,  alias 
Madame  Barette,  said  to  him,  "Fifty  dollars  is 
not  enough  for  this  girl,"  and  he  then  said,  "That 


TRAGEDIES  139 

is  all  I  paid  for  the  last  one,"  and  added,  "Look 
at  the  bother  you  gave  me  with  the  last  one," 
and  she  said,  "Yes,  but  you  won't  have  any  bother 
with  this  one." 

This  affiant  further  says  there  are  many  inci- 
dents and  things  that  happened  from  the  time 
she  was  first  seized  in  the  bathroom  until  the  man 
climbed  up  out  over  the  transom  that  she  has  not 
narrated  in  this  affidavit,  but  that  she  has  told 
most  of  the  occurrences;  and  also  says  that  the 
clothes  she  wore  that  night  were  later  returned  to 
her  by  the  police. 

Ella  J.  Gingles. 

Subscribed  and  sworn  to  before  me  this  15th 
day  of  March,  1909. 

Mary  E.  Joyce^  Notary  Public. 
[seal.] 


CHAPTER  XL 
ELLA  GINGLES  ON  TRIAL. 

BY  HAL  MCLEOD  LYTLE. 

Was  EUa  Gingles,  the  little  blonde  Irish  lace- 
maker,  on  trial  for  stealing  $50  worth  of  lace 
from  Agnes  Barrett? 

Or  was  the  city  of  Chicago  on  trial  for  permit- 
ting an  unsophisticated  girl  to  be  made  the  victim 
of  a  criminal  corporation  with  its  headquarters  in 
another  state,  as  Miss  Gingles  has  sworn? 

No  more  remarkable  case  was  ever  tried  in  the 
criminal  court  of  Cook  county,  wherein  some  of 
the  most  amazing  cases  of  which  the  world  has 
record  have  been  heard  and  decided. 

Ella  Gingles  was  charged  with  larceny.  Ella 
Gingles  asserted  that  the  charge  against  her  was 
inspired  by  an  intent  on  the  part  of  her  accusers 
to  brand  her  a  thief  so  that  her  story  of  the  crimi- 
nal machinations  of  a  gang  operating  in  the  in- 
terest of  a  combination  against  law  and  order, 
with  headquarters  at  an  Indiana  resort,  might 
escape  the  penalty  of  acts  committed  by  its 
agents. 

The  jury  which  heard  Ella  Gingles'  story  was 
not  misled  by  any  rhetorical  bombast  or  alleged 

140 


TRAGEDIES  141 

expert  testimony  covering  the  coined  phrase, 
"mythomania." 

Miss  Gingles  was  supposed  to  have  the  hyster- 
ical tendency  developed  to  the  extent  that  she 
imagined  things  happened  and  then  beHeved  they 
had  happened. 

There  are  such  people,  but  they  are  not  of  the 
physical  or  mental  make-up  of  Ella  Gingles.  Dr. 
Krohn  has  had,  no  doubt,  a  vast  experience  of 
hysteria,  basing  the  theory  on  his  Kankakee  con- 
nection, but  he  reckoned  without  the  jury  if  he 
believed  that  the  clear-eyed,  self-poised  young 
woman  who  told  that  horrible  story  to  the  court 
involving  Agnes  Barrett  and  Cecelia  Kenyon 
with  the  "man  in  the  velvet  mask,"  was  a  victim 
of  hysteria. 

The  testimony  of  Ella  Gingles  was  of  a  sort 
that  might  be  heard  in  a  French  court  and  under- 
stood. If  it  were  heard  in  an  English  court,  and 
believed,  the  plaintiffs  would  be  certain  of  twenty 
years  at  hard  labor  without  appeal. 

In  the  criminal  court  of  Chicago  the  prosecu- 
tion was  placed  in  a  strange  position.  Ella  Gin- 
gles, charged  with  a  crime  against  the  state,  no 
matter  by  whom,  it  was  the  duty  of  the  state's 
attorney's  office  to  prosecute  her  with  all  the  re- 
sources of  that  office. 

Across  the  river  they  are  used  to  meeting  steel 
with  steel.     They  fight  with  the  weapons  that 


142  WHITE  SLAVE 

the  enemy  uses.  They  perhaps  become  too  in- 
ured to  the  idea  that  everybody  is  guilty  until 
proved  innocent.  Therefore  the  cross-examina- 
tion of  Ella  Gingles  by  Mr.  Short,  legitimate 
enough  if  the  young  woman  were  the  double-dyed 
criminal  he  appears  to  believe  her,  fell  short  of  its 
intended  effect  with  the  jury  that  leaned  forward, 
every  man  listening  with  hand  over  ear  for  the 
lightest  word  of  the  softest-spoken  witness  the 
criminal  court  had  seen  in  many  a  day. 

Mr.  Short  was  too  clever  an  advocate  to  believe 
that  the  racking  cross-examination  covering  hide- 
ous detail  of  the  behavior  of  Miss  Barrett  and  the 
dead  Mrs.  Kenyon,  which  brought  tears  to  the 
eyes  of  the  shrinking  witness,  could  add  anything 
to  the  state's  contention  in  this  case. 

Ella  Gingles  was  ingenuous  to  a  fault.  She 
answered  questions  put  to  her  in  cross-examina- 
tion without  an  instant's  hesitation,  and  with  the 
utmost  candor.  An  apparent  discrepancy  seized 
on  by  the  lawyers  opposing  her  and  questions 
thundered  at  her  in  denunciatory  tone  fell  flat. 
The  question  sounded  subtle. 

"Ah!"  whispered  the  doubter  in  the  spectator's 
row.     "Here  is  where  she  betrays  herself." 

Then,  without  an  instant's  pause,  the  girl  told 
just  what  happened.  She  had  been  told  that  she 
must  talk  out — just  as  though  she  were  talking 
t(^  ^er  mother — and  so  she  told  everything.     It 


TRAGEDIES  143 

was  a  difficult  situation  for  a  prosecuting  lawyer. 

But  if  Ella  Gingles  was  ingenuous,  Ella  Gin- 
gles  was  no  fool.  She  knew  that  she  was  on  the 
defensive. 

Still,  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  Ella 
Gingles  case  proved  a  puzzle  to  the  Chicago  po- 
lice and  the  state's  attorney's  office.  The  young 
woman  appeared  to  have  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  the  pitfalls  that  beset  young  womanhood  in 
certain  directions,  and  to  be  grossly  ignorant  of 
those  that  girls  of  less  maturity  in  Chicago  might 
be  expected  to  avoid. 

When,  in  the  course  of  her  examination,  it  de- 
veloped that  Ella  Gingles  was  thinking  in  the 
way  of  a  foreigner  in  a  strange  place  while  the 
state's  advocate  was  cross-examining  her  as 
though  she  had  been  born  and  bred  in  Chicago,  or 
at  least  in  America,  the  assurance  of  the  defend- 
ant charged  with  a  crime  was  remarkable. 

If  at  any  time  it  should  develop  that  Ella  Gin- 
gles has  lied  throughout,  that  she  was  never  at- 
tacked in  the  Welhngton  hotel — that  Miss  Bar- 
rett IS  not  guilty  of  the  charges  made  against 
her  and  that  the  weird  story  of  conspiracy  was 
born  in  a  clever  brain,  rehearsed  and  then  put  on 
like  any  melodramatic  bit  for  the  delectation  of 
a  surfeited  public  it  will  go  hard  with  the  girl. 

Miss  Gingles  was  gowned  in  the  most  simple 
style.     Her  fresh,  unpainted  face  and  her  wide- 


144  WHITE  SLAVE 

staring,  innocent  eyes  were  of  the  sort  seldom  in- 
volved in  a  case  of  this  kind. 

When  asked  an  involved  question  in  cross- 
examination  she  half  hesitated,  looked  quickly  at 
judge  and  jury,  flashed  a  glance  of  inquiry  at  her 
lawyer  and  blushed. 

Blushing  is  an  accomplishment.  It  impresses 
a  jury  tremendously.  Miss  Gingles  not  only 
blushed,  but  she  wiggled.  With  a  glove  twisted 
in  her  hand,  she  had  hesitated  so  long  over  the 
answer  to  a  question  involving  a  disagreeable  an- 
swer that  the  most  dramatic  of  all  situations  had 
been  produced. 

The  court  would  wait,  the  audience  would  hang 
breathless,  the  attorneys,  standing  up,  would  lean 
forward,  while  the  witness  tried  to  find  words  in 
which  to  formulate  a  reply. 

Then  in  three  words  the  story  would  be  told. 
The  jury  would  lean  back  and  gasp.  The  judge 
would  swing  around  in  his  pivot  chair  and  assume 
an  air  of  unconcern.  The  attorneys  would  busy 
themselves  with  papers  and  the  audience  would 
groan.  Still  Miss  Gingles  would  sit  there  in  the 
witness  chair  unperturbed. 

Could  an  innocent  young  woman  sustain  the 
horror  of  such  a  climax  ? 

The  jury  that  rendered  the  verdict  of  "not 
guilty"  was  a  representative  one.  They  ranged 
from  men  high  in  the  financial  world  to  those  of 


TRAGEDIES  145 

low  estate.  In  the  days  that  they  sat  listening 
to  the  terrible  tale  as  unfolded  by  the  little  Irish 
lace-maker  and  the  physicians  they  appeared  to 
be  held  as  though  spellbound. 

It  was  a  dramatic  trial,  fiUed  throughout  with 
thriUs  and  shudders. 

Sensation  followed  sensation.  At  no  time  dur- 
ing the  long  trial,  which  cost  the  state  of  Illinois 
nearly  $100,000,  did  the  interest  lapse. 

It  was  for  the  jurors  to  decide  the  truth  of  this 
complication  of  alleged  happenings  and  as  to  the 
guilt  of  the  little  foreigner,  charged  by  her  al- 
leged persecutor  with  theft. 

The  important  points  on  which  Madame  Bar- 
rett based  her  charges  against  Ella   Gingles 
were: 

That  Ella  Gingles  signed  a  confession  Decem- 
ber 6,  1908,  admitting  she  was  a  department 
store  thief. 

That  she  stole  valuable  lace  from  her  and  used 
the  lace  in  the  new  dress. 

That  the  lace-maker's  injuries  were  self-in- 
flicted. 

Combatting  this,  the  little  defendant  and  her 
stanch  friends  sv/ore: 

That  she  was  a  victim  of  a  conspiracy  on  the 
part  of  her  accusers. 

That  her  enemies  attempted  to  make  her  a 
white  slave. 


146  WHITE  SLAVE 

That  she  was  urged  by  Madame  Barrett  to 
accept  money  offered  her  by  her  tempter. 

That  she  was  seized,  bound  and  horribly  mis- 
treated in  the  Wellington  hotel,  as  the  result  of 
her  refusal  to  accede  to  Madame  Barrett's  de- 
mands. 

That  the  Barrett  woman  forced  open,  or  caused 
to  be  forced  open,  her  trunk  and  took  therefrom 
laces  and  valuable  keepsakes  and  personal  prop- 
erties belonging  to  her. 

It  was  charge  met  by  charge. 

During  the  long  hearing  Madame  Barrett  sat 
alone.  She  seemed  to  have  been  shunned.  At 
no  time  did  she  lose  her  self-control.  The  most 
violent  charges  seemed  to  affect  her  but  little. 

The  girl  would  make  some  terrible  charge  from 
the  witness  stand.  The  prosecuting  witness 
would  sit  immovable.  Her  face  did  not  blanch. 
It  did  not  color  to  a  crimson  red.  Her  eyes  did 
not  wander.  Forever  they  were  gazing  directly 
in  front  of  her,  yet  without  looking  at  any  one 
and  anything. 

It  was  the  gaze  and  composure  of  a  woman  of 
the  world — a  woman  who  has  passed  through  hor- 
rors before  and  who  has  become  immune. 

After  the  jury  had  been  selected  Miss  Gingles 
was  released  on  bond.  Previous  to  this  time  she 
had  been  confined  in  the  county  jail  at  her  o-svn 
request,  as  she  charged  her  enemies  were  still 


TRAGEDIES  147 

following  her  and  she  feared  they  would  do  her 
injury. 

At  the  opening  of  the  jfirst  session  of  court 
First  Assistant  State's  Attorney  Benedict  J. 
Short  made  a  short  address. 

"Miss  Gingles,  and  not  Miss  Barrett,  is  on 
trial  here.  You  must  try  this  case  on  the  evi- 
dence alone,"  said  Mr.  Short. 

Attorney  O'Donnell  declared  he  would  show 
that  Miss  Gingles  was  the  victim  of  a  plot  insti- 
gated by  an  alleged  agent  representing  an  influ- 
ential Indiana  Democratic  politician. 

Here  are  a  few  samples  of  questions  asked  ve- 
niremen by  Attorney  O'Donnell  of  the  defense: 

"Are  you  married?" 

"Have  you  any  sisters?" 

"Have  you  read  about  this  case?" 

"Miss  Gingles  is  Irish — does  that  make  any 
difference?" 

"Would  it  make  any  difference  if  Miss  Gingles 
belongs  to  a  different  religion  than  you  do?" 

Assistant  State's  Attorneys  Short  and  Furth- 
man  questioned  prospective  jurors  along  these 
lines: 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  the  Irish  lace 
store?" 

"Did  you  ever  stop  at  the  Wellington  hotel?" 

"Can  the  state  accept  you  as  a  juror  with  con- 


148  WHITE  SLAVE 

fidence  that  you  will  do  your  full  duty  and  not  be 
swayed  by  outside  influences?" 

When  Attorney  Patrick  H.  O'Donnell,  her 
counsel,  entered  the  courtroom  he  held  a  short 
conference  with  Assistant  State's  Attorney 
Short. 

While  they  were  talking  Miss  Gingles  entered 
the  courtroom,  accompanied  by  a  deputy  sheriff. 

"We  desire  to  have  Miss  Gingles  admitted  to 
bail,"  said  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

"I  am  very  willing,  I  always  have  been  willing 
that  Miss  Gingles  should  be  free  on  bail,"  replied 
Mr.  Short. 

There  was  another  short  conference,  after 
which  Mr.  Short  said:  "We  will  accept  you  as 
Miss  Gingles'  surety." 

Thereupon  Miss  Gingles  tripped  lightly  up  to 
the  clerk's  desk  and  wrote  her  name  on  the  bond. 
Mr.  O'Donnell  also  affixed  his  signature  to  the 
$2,000  bond  and  the  pretty  defendant  was  freed 
from  the  attentions  of  the  officer. 

Ella  Gingles  presented  a  picture  of  fresh,  girl- 
ish beauty  as  she  took  her  place  in  front  of  the 
jury  box. 

She  wore  a  white  linen  suit,  with  a  long  coat. 
The  collar  and  cuffs  were  trimmed  with  blue  rib- 
bon. A  tan  straw  hat,  tam  o'shanter  style,  was 
matched  by  brown  ribbons  and  roses.  Her  brown 


TRAGEDIES  149 

hair,  in  curly  puffs  and  waves,  fell  below  her  ears 
and  tumbled  bewitchingly  over  her  eyes. 

The  scene  in  the  courtroom  at  the  criminal 
court  when  Ella  Gingles  took  the  witness  stand 
to  relate  her  terrible  story  was  one  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

As  the  little  lace-maker's  name  was  called  and 
she  rose  to  walk  past  the  jury  to  the  witness  stand 
fifty  women  seated  in  the  back  part  of  the  court- 
room rose  and  began  to  clap  their  hands.  Some 
threw  their  handkerchiefs  into  the  air. 

The  girl  seemed  much  affected  by  the  demon- 
stration. Judge  Brentano  seemed  taken  aback 
for  a  moment  by  this  unusual  outburst.  In  vain 
the  bailiff  pounded  with  his  gavel  for  order. 
Finally  the  court  was  compelled  to  rise  and  stern- 
ly rebuke  the  courtroom  in  no  uncertain  terms. 

Miss  Gingles  began  her  story  in  a  low  tone. 
It  was  the  voice  of  a  schoolgirl  telling  of  some- 
thing she  had  undergone,  but  could  not  compre- 
hend. The  persons  in  the  courtroom  hung  on 
every  word.  You  could  have  heard  a  pin  fall. 
As  Miss  Gingles  took  the  stand  Attorney  O'Don- 
nell  said : 

"State  your  name." 

"Ella  Gingles,"  the  witness  replied,  in  a  voice 
that  rang  out  through  the  courtroom.  She  said 
she  would  be  nineteen  years  old  next  November. 
She  was  born  in  Ireland.     Her  father's  name  is 


150  WHITE  SLAVE 

Thomas,  and  she  has  seven  sisters  and  several 
brothers.  She  said  she  came  to  America  in  No- 
vember, 1907. 

"Did  you  make  Irish  lace?'* 

"Yes." 

She  identified  a  design  shown  her  as  one  she 
made  when  eight  years  old. 

"Who  made  the  hat  you  are  now  wearing?" 

"I  did." 

The  hat  was  a  peach-basket  affair.  A  design 
of  lace  was  shown  her  and  she  said  she  was  the 
maker,  as  well  as  the  designer. 

She  testified  she  won  prizes  in  Ireland  for  fan- 
cy lace-making.  She  said  she  originated  several 
designs. 

Miss  Gingles  said  she  remained  in  Montreal 
two  days,  later  going  to  Belleville,  Ontario,  where 
she  worked  as  a  cook.  From  there  she  went  to 
Toronto.  She  visited  a  sister  in  Michigan,  com- 
ing direct  from  there  to  Chicago  about  Novem- 
ber 15,  1908. 

"What  did  you  do  here?" 

"I  went  to  work  as  a  chambermaid  at  the  Wel- 
lington hotel.     I  stayed  there  a  week." 

"What  did  you  next  do?" 

"I  went  there  to  meet  some  fine  lady  to  sell 
laces  to,  and  quit  the  work  and  sold  them." 

** Where  did  vou  next  work?" 


TRAGEDIES  151 

"At  a  JMichigan  avenue  restaurant,  but  quit 
after  four  days." 

"When  and  how  did  you  meet  Agnes  Bar- 
rett?" 

"I  went  to  her  store  and  showed  her  my  lace." 

At  the  mention  of  her  name  Miss  Barrett 
looked  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  girl  she  ac- 
cused, and  Miss  Gingles  returned  the  glances 
without  coloring. 

"Miss  Barrett  gave  me  some  roses  to  work  on," 
resumed  the  witness.  "She  gave  me  $1  and  then 
I  made  some  berries  and  more  roses." 

Miss  Gingles  said  she  continued  to  work  for 
Miss  Barrett,  receiving  $1  per  day.  Altogether 
she  worked  four  days  for  Miss  Barrett  before 
Christmas. 

"Did  Miss  Barrett  say  in  your  presence  and  a 
maid  that  she  missed  things?" 

"She  said  she  missed  some  powder  and  paint 
and  some  Limerick  laces." 

Miss  Gingles  seemed  confident,  and  began  to 
smile  as  she  testified.  On  January  4,  she  said, 
she  returned  home  at  seven  o'clock,  and  found 
Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  in  her  room. 

"Is  Mrs.  Kenyon  living  or  dead?" 

"Dead." 

Attorney  O'Donnell  dropped  this  line  of  ques- 
tioning and  inquired  further  as  to  what  occurred 
on  that  evening. 


1S2  WHITE  SLAVE 

She  said  Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  took 
practically  everything  of  value  from  her  trunk, 
including  prize  lace  designs,  underwear,  photo- 
graphs, bracelets,  strips  of  chiffon  and  a  ring. 

"Was  the  ring  valuable?" 

"It  cost  15  cents  in  Ireland,  but  Miss  Barrett 
said :  *It  must  be  valuable  or  it  wouldn't  be  in  a 
costly  box.' 

"Besides,  they  trampled  my  clothes  in  the  dirt 
and  greased  what  they  left  with  candles." 

"What  else  did  they  take?" 

"A  fancy  pillow  case  I  made  on  a  ship." 

The  most  startling  part  of  the  girl's  story  was 
of  the  alleged  attack  upon  her  in  the  Wellington 
hotel,  although  her  testimony  was  the  story  of  her 
life  practically  from  the  time  she  came  to  Ameri- 
ca from  Ireland. 

Miss  Gingles,  in  her  testimony,  declared  that 
it  was  she,  and  not  Miss  Barrett,  that  had  been 
robbed,  and  she  told  a  story  of  how  her  room  at 
474  La  Salle  avenue  had  been  broken  into  and 
ransacked  in  her  absence  and  many  valuable 
pieces  of  lace  taken. 

She  declared  that  the  robbery  was  made  com- 
plete by  Miss  Barrett  the  same  night  in  the  Wel- 
lington hotel  by  taking  all  the  money  out  of  her 
purse  and  forcing  her  to  walk  back  to  her  board- 
ing house  from  downtown  in  the  cold  of  a  winter's 
night. 


TRAGEDIES  153 

She  said  that  on  this  night  she  was  forced  to 
sign  a  confession,  admitting  the  theft  of  lace  for 
which  the  girl  now  is  being  tried. 

Her  story  of  the  attack  upon  her  in  the  Wel- 
lington was  the  most  remarkable  ever  heard  in 
the  criminal  court  building,  and  during  it  there 
were  many  outbursts  from  the  spectators. 

Miss  Barrett,  her  accuser  in  the  theft  charge, 
was  as  agitated  as  the  witness,  and  several  times 
seemed  on  the  verge  of  breaking  down. 

Attorney  Patrick  H.  O'Donnell  made  good  his 
declaration  that  the  story  of  Miss  Gingles  con- 
cerning her  treatment  in  the  Wellington  hotel 
would  be  told  under  oath  from  the  witness  chair. 

Step  by  step  the  lawyer  led  the  girl. 

"She  offered  me  money;  advised  me  to  take  the 
money  the  man  offered  me  whom  she  had  brought 
to  the  room  when  I  was  helpless.  She  choked  me, 
threatened  me,  and  finally  accused  me  of  stealing 
and  made  me  sign  a  confession  before  she  would 
permit  me  to  leave  the  room." 

These  were  some  of  the  accusations  sobbed  out 
by  the  lace-maker. 

Time  and  again  there  were  seeming  admissions 
forced  from  the  girl's  lips  which  Mr.  Short  hoped 
would  lay  the  foundation  for  impeachment  of  the 
most  sensational  sort. 

There  was  a  short  delay,  owing  to  a  number  of 
emergency  matters  set  before  Judge  Brentano. 


154  WHITE  SLAVE 

Then  Mr.  O'Donnell  resumed  the  questioning  of 
Miss  Gingles  as  follows: 

"In  Captain  O'Brien's  office  when  this  neck- 
lace was  produced,  what  did  you  say?" 

"I  said  it  was  my  necklace,"  answered  the  wit- 
ness. 

"Did  Captain  O'Brien  say  anything  about  you 
proving  that  it  was  your  necklace?" 

"Yes.  I  told  him  that  Daisy  Young  of  Belle- 
ville, Ontario,  could  prove  that  the  necklace  was 
mine,"  answered  Miss  Gingles. 

"Did  you  write  to  Daisy  Young?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  she  answer  your  letter?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  show  the  letter  to  Captain  O'Brien?" 

"Yes." 

"Have  you  the  letter  Daisy  Young  \^Tote?" 

"Yes;  here  it  is." 

"Now,  I'll  read  it,"  said  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

"No,  you  won't;  I  object,"  said  Assistant  Pros- 
ecutor Short. 

"Sustained,"  said  Judge  Brentano. 

"But  I  want  to  show  that  Captain  O'Brien's 
suppressed  evidence  is  contradicted  by  this  let- 
ter," returned  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

"There  is  no  rule  of  evidence  Avhereby  such  a 
letter  could  be  admissible,"  replied  the  court. 


TRAGEDIES  155 

"Did  you  meet  Mary  Brennan  at  the  door  of 
Miss  Barrett's  room  as  she  testified?" 

"Yes." 

"Now,  tell  the  jury  if  there  was  any  property 
in  your  room  that  didn't  belong  to  you?" 

"Yes,  a  towel  from  the  Wellington  hotel." 

"Did  you  tell  Captain  O'Brien?" 

"Yes." 

"When  3^ou  went  to  Miss  Barrett's  room  what 
happened?"  asked  Attorney  O'Donnell. 

"Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  went  with  me, 
and  Mrs.  Kenyon  whispered  something  into  my 
ear.  Then  Mrs.  Kenyon  told  me  I  had  to  take 
off  my  clothes.  I  told  her  I  would  do  nothing  of 
the  sort.  Then  Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon 
took  off  my  clothes  and  made  me  go  to  bed.  Then 
Miss  Barrett  told  me  that  she  wanted  me  to  go  to 
French  Lick  Springs,  Indiana." 

"Did  she  tell  you  what  she  wanted  you  to  go 
there  for?"  asked  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

Here  Miss  Gingles  began  to  cry. 

"Don't  do  that,  Ella,"  said  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

The  girl  made  revolting  charges  against  both 
Agnes  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon. 

"What  happened  then?"  was  asked. 

"Why,  Miss  Barrett  offered  me  a  silk  dress  if 
I  would  do  as  she  told  me." 

"Did  she  show  you  the  dress?" 

"Yes." 


156  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Tell  what  happened,"  urged  the  attorney. 

"Mrs.  Kenyon  said  to  Miss  Barrett:  *  Where 
is  the  other  girl?  We  promised  them  to  bring 
two  girls  here.' " 

"Did  any  men  enter  the  room?" 

"Yes,  one  man  came  in." 

"What  else  happened?" 

"Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon  held  me." 

"Did  the  man  offer  you  any  money?" 

"Yes,  but  I  wouldn't  take  it." 

"Did  Miss  Barrett  tell  you  to  take  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Was  the  light  burning?" 

"Yes,  but  when  the  man  came  in  Miss  Barrett 
turned  it  off." 

"Did  you  know  at  the  time  that  Miss  Barrett 
had  gone  to  your  room  and  taken  the  lace  and 
other  articles  that  you  are  now  charged  with 
stealing?"  asked  Mr.  O'Donnell. 

"No,  sir." 

"Did  Miss  Barrett  say  anything  to  you  that 
night  about  losing  lace?" 

"Yes,  and  she  said  I  had  stolen  it.  I  told  her 
it  was  a  lie." 

"What  did  Miss  Barrett  say?" 

"She  had  a  paper  and  said  I  would  have  to  sign 
it  and  admit  that  I  had  stolen  the  lace.  I  re- 
fused to  do  it." 

"What  did  she  say?" 


TRAGEDIES  157 

"She  said  if  I  didn't  sign  it  she  would  call  that 
man  back  again.     Then  I  signed  it." 

*'Did  you  call  Miss  Barrett  any  names  that 
night?" 

"Yes,  I  told  her  that  she  was  a  beast  and  that 
Mrs.  Kenyon  was  another." 

"Tell  the  jury  what  you  did." 

"I  tried  to  scream,  but  Miss  Barrett  put  a 
towel  over  my  mouth  and  she  said  if  I  screamed 
again  she  would  choke  me." 

The  girl  declared  that  Mrs.  Kenyon  and  Miss 
Barrett  had  prevented  her  resisting  the  man. 

She  declared  she  had  cried  and  when  she  went 
home  she  asked  two  women  to  call  a  policeman, 
"They  told  me  to  go  to  Captain  O'Brien's  office 
the  next  day  and  I  did,"  said  Miss  Gingles. 

"Did  you  have  any  money?"  was  asked. 

"No,  Miss  Barrett  took  all  my  money  out  of 
my  pui'se." 

"How  did  you  get  home  to  474  La  Salle  ave- 
nue?" 

"I  ran  home." 

"That's  all,"  said  Attorney  O'Donnell. 

"Did  you  run  all  the  way  home?"  was  the  first 
question  by  Prosecutor  Short  on  cross-examina- 
tion. 

"Yes,  ran  or  walked." 

"Which  way  did  you  go?" 

"I  ran  out  in  Jackson  boulevard  and  ran  west 


158  WHITE  SLAVE 

on  the  north  side  of  the  street,"  answered  Miss 
Gingles. 

"Did  you  see  any  people  while  you  were  run- 
ningi 

"I  didn't  notice  many." 

"How  did  you  go  down  stairs?" 

"I  took  the  elevator." 

"Didn't  you  know  there  was  a  policeman  in 
the  Wellington  hotel?" 

"No,  I  didn't  see  any  policeman." 

"There  were  lots  of  people  in  the  hotel  office, 
wasn't  there?" 

"I  didn't  stop  to  notice." 

"You  didn't  have  any  money  to  pay  your  car 
fare?" 

"No;  Miss  Barrett  had  taken  all  my  money." 

"You  saw  people  in  the  streets,  but  you  didn't 
stop  and  tell  any  of  them  to  call  a  policeman?'* 

"No." 

"What  time  did  you  leave  the  Wellington  ho- 
tel?" 

"At  twenty-five  minutes  to  twelve  o'clock." 

"How  long  did  it  take  you  to  get  home?" 

"About  twenty  minutes." 

"What  was  the  first  thing  you  did  when  you 
got  home?" 

"I  saw  Mrs.  Linderman,  the  landlady." 

"Where  was  she?" 

"In  the  basement." 


TRAGEDIES  159 

"What  was  the  first  thing  you  said  to  Mrs, 
Linderman?" 

"I  told  her  that  an  awful  thing  had  happened. 
Then  I  told  her  all." 

"What  did  you  do  then?" 

"I  asked  her  how  I  could  get  a  policeman,  and 
she  said  it  was  too  late  and  to  wait  till  the  next 
day.  Then  I  went  upstairs  to  see  another  wom- 
an and  told  her  the  same  thing,  and  she  said  I 
had  better  wait  and  go  to  see  Captain  O'Brien 
the  next  day." 

"Then  what  happened?" 

"Mrs.  Linderman  went  with  me  to  my  room, 
and  there  I  found  that  my  trunk  had  been  broken 
into  and  most  of  my  things  taken.  I  showed 
Mrs.  Linderman  what  had  been  done." 

"That  was  when  Miss  Barrett  had  gone  to 
your  room  and  taken  the  lace  and  other  things 
which  she  claimed  you  had  stolen?" 

"Yes." 

"You  went  to  see  Captain  O'Bren  the  next 
day,  did  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  tell  him  that  you  had  been  attacked?" 

"No." 

"You  didn't  mention  anything,  not  to  a  man 
anyway,  about  what  you  have  related  as  occur- 
ring in  Miss  Barrett's  room?" 


160  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Just  told  them  you  had  been  robbed  of  $100 
worth  of  lace?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  tell  anybody — any  of  the  policemen 
who  went  around  with  you,  about  it?" 

"No,  I  couldn't  tell  that  awful  story  to  any- 
body." 

"This  confession  you  signed  to  Miss  Barrett 
wasn't  the  first  confession  you  ever  signed,  was 
it?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"I'm  positive." 

Here  Prosecutor  Short  produced  the  first  sen- 
sational attack  upon  Ella  Gingles. 

"Didn't  you  sign  a  confession  that  you  had 
taken  goods  from  a  department  store?" 

"No." 

"How  old  do  you  say  you  are?" 

"I  am  eighteen." 

"Look  at  this  signature  signed  December  6, 
1908 — is  that  your  signature?" 

Here  Mr.  Short  produced  a  paper  purporting 
to  be  a  confession  that  Ella  Gingles  had  made, 
when  accused  of  theft  in  a  department  store. 

"That  is  my  signature,"  said  Miss  Gingles. 

Her  voice  quivered.  There  was  a  gasp  among 
the  women  who  had  flocked  to  the  courtroom  to 
lend  their  moral  aid  to  the  accused  girl. 


TRAGEDIES  161 

"Let's  see,'*  said  Mr.  Short,  mercilessly.  "At 
the  verj'-  outset  this  paper  says — your  admission 
— that  you  were  then  twenty  years  old." 

"No,  sir,"  interrupted  Miss  Gingles. 

"Here,  look  at  it ;  there  it  is,  twenty  years  old." 

"I  told  them  I  was  eighteen. 

"You  have  said  vou  were  born  in  Ireland?'* 

"Yes." 

"But  this  document  says — ^your  admission — 
that  you  were  born  in  London." 

The  witness  made  no  answer. 

Mr.  Short  attempted  to  offer  the  document  in 
evidence,  but  was  temporarily  prevented  by  a 
ruling  of  the  court. 

"You  say  you  were  a  good  girl — a  perfectly 
good  girl — up  to  the  time  you  met  Agnes  Bar- 
rett?" 

"Yes ;  oh,  yes,  sir,'*  sobbed  Miss  Gingles. 

"You  lived  in  Belleville,  Ontario,  before  com- 
ing to  Chicago?" 

"Yes.** 

"As  Ella  Gingles?" 

"Yes." 

"What!  Didn't  you  call  yourself  Ella  Ray- 
mond?'* 

"No.** 

"Did  you  know  a  Dr.  Gibson  there?*' 

"No,  sir." 

"Didn't  he  attend  you  when  you  were  ill?'' 


162  WHITE  SLAVE 

"He  did  not;  he  did  not." 

Mr.  Short  intimated  that  this  part  of  the  girl's 
testimony  would  be  impeached  by  testimony  of 
the  physician. 

"It  was  under  the  auspices  of  that  woman's 
guild  at  Belleville,  Ontario,  that  you  went  to 
work  for  Mrs.  Thornton?" 

"Yes." 

*''No  white  slave  about  that?" 

"No." 

"Was  that  Mrs.  D.  S.  Thornton?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  never  had  any  trouble  with  them?" 

"No." 

"When  were  you  taken  ill?" 

"About  two  months  later." 

"What  was  the  doctor's  name?" 

"I  don't  remember." 

"How  long  were  you  at  the  hospital?" 

"I  don't  remember." 

"Didn't  the  nurse  and  Mrs.  Thornton  object  to 
having  you  go  back  to  work?" 

"No." 

On  this  point  the  witness  was  quite  positive. 

Then  Mr.  Short  described  the  Thornton  house 
and  asked  the  witness  if  she  didn't  know  that  up 
in  the  attic  much  linen  was  stored. 

Miss  Gingles  said  that  she  didn't  know  about 


TRAGEDIES  163 

it.  She  described  the  marking  on  the  linen,  and 
then  was  asked : 

"If  Mr.  Thornton  said  you  took  Hnen  from  his 
house,  he  is  wrong?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Would  you  know  his  handwriting?" 

"Yes." 

Then  Mr.  Short  showed  her  the  letter  from 
Mr.  Thornton  that  Captain  O'Brien  had. 

"That  is  his  handwriting,  but  the  letter  is  not 
true,"  said  the  witness. 

Then  Mr.  Short  returned  to  the  baby  clothes 
that  were  found  in  Miss  Gingles'  trunk." 

"How  long  have  you  had  these  baby  clothes?" 

"About  four  months." 

"How  much  larger  were  you  going  to  make 
these  clothes?" 

"Just  a  little  larger." 

"Why  didn't  you  start  at  these?" 

"I  was  waiting  for  a  job." 

"You  had  lots  of  time?" 

"Yes,  but  I  had  to  work  at  lace-making  to  sup- 
port myself." 

"When  you  were  at  the  Thornton  house  didn't 
the  family  go  away?" 

"Yes,  to  Quebec." 

"And  didn't  you  have  a  photograph  taken  in 
one  of  Mrs.  Thornton's  lace  dresses?" 

"No,  sir." 


164  WHITE  SLAVE 

Then  Mr.  Short  showed  her  a  picture  of  herself 
taken  by  R.  McCormick  of  Belleville. 

"That  is  an  enlargement  of  a  photograph  that 
I  had  taken  in  Ireland,"  said  Miss  Gingles. 

"You  didn't  have  this  taken  in  Belleville?" 

"No." 

"When  you  went  back  to  the  Thornton  home 
from  the  hospital  did  the  doctor  go  back  with 
you,  or  did  you  ask  him  to  speak  to  them?" 

"No." 

"Where  did  you  come  from  to  Chicago  after 
leaving  the  Thorntons?" 

"I  went  to  work  for  Mrs.  Lindquist  in  July 
and  went  to  Toronto  with  her,  and  then  went  to 
Bangor,  Michigan,  and  then  to  Chicago." 

"Where  did  you  go  when  you  went  to  Chi- 
cago?" 

"To  Mrs.  Linderman's  house." 

"Didn't  you  have  a  room  at  300  Indiana 
street?" 

"Yes;  I  roomed  with  Mrs.  Rice." 

"No  trouble  there,  did  you?" 

"No." 

"Where  did  she  work?" 

"In  the  Wellington  hotel." 

"What  did  she  do?" 

**She  was  the  linen  girl." 

"How  far  is  300  Indiana  street  from  474  La 
Salle  avenue?" 


TRAGEDIES  165 

"Half  a  dozen  blocks." 

"You  went  into  Miss  Barrett's  lace  store  for 
the  first  time  in  November?" 

"Yes." 

"Was  that  before  you  went  to  work  in  the 
WelHngton?" 

"Did  you  see  Miss  Barrett?" 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  Mrs.  Kenyon's  sister?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  you  have  any  conversation  with  anybody 
there  about  your  mother  in  Ireland?" 

"No." 

"Did  you  tell  Miss  Barrett  that  your  mother 
had  given  you  .£200  to  come  to  the  country  for  a 
good  time  and  that  you  had  lost  it  on  the  way 
to  the  boat?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Did  you  tell  Miss  Barrett  that  you  lived  at 
the  WeUington  hotel?" 

"Yes." 

Then,  prompted  by  Miss  Barrett,  Mr.  Short 
put  the  witness  through  a  long  questioning  re- 
garding the  different  kinds  of  lace. 

It  was  a  duel  of  lace-making  knowledge  be- 
tween Miss  Gingles  and  Agnes  Barrett,  but  Mr. 
Short  failed  to  secure  any  important  admissions. 

A  queer  incident  occurred  after  the  adjourn- 
ment.    Ella  Gingles,  who  was  formerly  kept  a 


166  WHITE  SLAVE 

prisoner  in  the  county  jail,  and  who  was  released 
on  bail,  ran  from  the  witness  stand  into  the  arms 
of  several  women  who  are  befriending  her.  Agnes 
Barrett,  white  and  desperate  at  the  charges  made 
against  her,  ran  back  from  the  advancing  throng 
of  women. 

The  accuser  of  Ella  Gingles  ran  past  the  jury 
out  of  the  room  by  the  prisoners'  door — the  door 
used  by  Ella  Gingles  to  enter  and  leave  the  room 
under  the  escort  of  a  negro  deputy  sheriff. 

Miss  Barrett  hurried  down  the  stairs  and  into 
the  office  of  Mr.  Short. 

Among  the  women  who  were  with  the  lace- 
maker  were  Mrs.  T.  G.  Kent,  president  of  the 
Daughters  of  the  Confederacy ;  Mrs.  Van  Dusen 
Cooke  of  the  Socialist  Women  of  the  United 
States;  Mrs.  M.  C.  Brem  of  the  Social  Econom- 
ics Club;  Mrs.  Lyman  Cooley  of  the  Evanston 
W.  C.  T.  U.;  Mrs.  MoUie  Benecke,  Irish  Choral 
Society;  Dr.  M.  V.  Maxson;  Mrs.  Margaret  In- 
glehart ;  Mrs.  Frances  Hagen,  and  Mrs.  Frances 
Rowe,  Children's  Day  Association. 

Testimony  which  was  deemed  favorable  to 
Miss  Gingles  was  given  by  Captain  P.  D, 
O'Brien  of  the  detective  bureau,  who  was  called 
by  the  state.  Captain  O'Brien  admitted  that  he 
had  formerly  been  friendly  to  Miss  Gingles,  and 
Attorney  O'Donnell  got  it  before  the  jury  that 


TRAGEDIES  167 

he  had  even  suggested  the  employment  of  her 
present  counsel. 

The  detective  chief  gave  testimony  which  was 
thought  to  favor  the  defendant.  The  witness  de- 
clared that  the  first  charge  of  theft  was  made  by 
Ella  Gingles  against  Agnes  Barrett  of  the  Wel- 
lington hotel,  and  told  of  an  investigation  by  the 
police  of  a  raid  on  Miss  Gingles'  home,  474  La 
Salle  avenue,  in  which  Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs. 
Kenyon  took  away  some  lace  and  a  watch  and 
bank  book  belonging  to  the  defendant. 

His  examination,  conducted  by  Mr.  Short,  fol- 
lows: 

"Do  you  remember  seeing  Miss  Barrett  and 
Ella  Gingles  on  January  5,  1909?" 

"Yes.  Ella  Gingles  came  to  my  office  and  said 
she  worked  at  the  Wellington  hotel  and  that  Mrs. 
Kenyon  and  Miss  Barrett  had  gone  to  her  room 
at  474  La  Salle  avenue  and  took  her  watch,  bank 
book  and  laces,  claiming  she  had  stolen  the  lace. 
She  said  they  had  compelled  her  to  sign  a  state- 
ment that  she  had  stolen  the  lace. 

"I  asked  Ella  Gingles  if  she  stole  the  lace  and 
she  said,  'No.' 

"I  told  her  T  thought  it  was  funny  that  she 
should  have  signed  the  statement. 

"I  sent  for  Miss  Barrett  and  Mrs.  Kenyon. 
The  latter  came.  We  had  the  lace,  watch  and 
bank  book  taken  to  my  office. 


168  WHITE  SLAVE 

"What  was  the  lace  kept  in?  A  blue  pillow 
case. 

"Finally  Miss  Barrett  came  to  my  office  and  I 
had  her  and  Miss  Gingles  attempt  to  sort  out  the 
laces  which  they  claimed  were  theirs.  Then  we 
put  the  lace  on  a  table  and  Miss  Barrett  and  Miss 
Gingles  both  claimed  most  of  the  lace.  I  told 
them  they  had  better  take  the  case  to  court.  I 
told  Miss  Gingles  not  to  give  Miss  Barrett  the 
lace  if  it  didn't  belong  to  her." 

"Miss  Gingles  did  admit  that  some  of  the  lace 
belonged  to  Miss  Barrett,  did  she?"  asked  Mr. 
Short. 

"Yes,  but  she  claimed  that  Miss  Barrett  or 
some  of  her  friends  took  it  to  her  room.  She  de- 
nied having  stolen  it." 

"What  did  Miss  Barrett  say  about  the  watch 
and  bank  book?" 

"She  said  she  had  lost  other  property  and  that 
she  thought  she  could  keep  it  until  her  loss  had 
been  made  good.  I  told  her  she  couldn't  do  that 
in  my  office." 

"Was  there  any  trouble  over  a  necklace?" 

"Yes.  Miss  Barrett  claimed  a  necklace  which 
she  said  she  had  bought  in  New  York.  Miss 
Gingles  denied  the  assertion  and  said  she  had 
brought  the  necklace  from  Ireland." 

The  necklace  was  introduced  in  evidence. 

Attorney  O'Donnell  began  the  cross-examina- 


TRAGEDIES  169 

tion  in  an  unusual  manner,  which  called  for  an 
equally  unusual  objection  from  Prosecutor  Short. 

"Good  morning,  captain,"  Mr.  O'Donnell  be- 
gan, in  his  most  dulcet,  honeyed  tones. 

"Good  morning,"  returned  the  witness. 

*I  object,"  shouted  Mr.  Short. 

"What  for?"  asked  Judge  Brentano,  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  about  Mr.  O'Donnell's  good 
morning,  but  to  its  obvious  purpose,"  said  Mr. 
Short. 

After  some  preliminary  questions  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell asked  Captain  O'Brien  if  he  remembered  a 
statement  made  to  him  in  the  presence  of  Chief 
Clerk  William  Luthardt  of  the  police  depart- 
ment, to  the  effect  that  when  the  piles  of  lace 
were  divided  "Ella  Gingles  had  the  pile  and  Ag- 
nes Barrett  had  the  scraps." 

Captain  O'Brien  said  he  didn't  remember  it 
that  way. 

"But  the  piles  were  about  equally  divided," 
said  Captain  O'Brien. 

The  witness'  memory  failed  him  on  several 
points  which  had  impressed  Mr.  O'Donnell,  and 
finally,  when  the  lawyer  became  nettled,  he 
snapped  this  question  across  the  table: 

"You  were  the  first  person  to  suggest  that  T 
defend  Miss  Gingles — you  wanted  me  to  defend 
her,  didn't  you?" 


170  WHITE  SLAVE 

Objection  by  Mr.  Short  was  promptly  sus- 
tained. 

E.  C.  Capon,  manager  of  the  Wellington  ho- 
tel, then  was  called  and  asked  to  identify  a  pass- 
key which  the  state  claims  was  found  in  the  Gin- 
gles  girl's  room. 

"That's  a  maid's  pass-key,"  said  Capon. 

"Poof!  I  never  had  a  pass-key — I  never  saw 
that  one  until  I  was  arrested,"  said  Miss  Gingles. 

May  Brennan,  who  came  direct  to  Chicago 
from  County  Sligo,  Ireland,  less  than  a  year  ago, 
was  the  next  witness. 

"What  is  your  occupation?'*  asked  Mr.  Short. 

"I'm  a  lace  teacher." 

"Did  you  try  to  get  Miss  Gingles  a  position 
in  a  department  store?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  any  one  ask  you  to  befriend  Miss  Gin- 
gles?" 

"Yes— Miss  Barrett." 

Then  Prosecutor  Short  sprang  his  big  surprise. 

"Here  is  a  piece  of  lace  taken  from  Miss  Gin- 
gles' room.  Did  you  ever  see  that  before?"  asked 
Mr,  Short. 

"Yes — I  made  it.     That's  my  own  make." 

"What  did  you  do  with  the  original  piece  of 
lace?" 

"I  sent  it  to  Miss  Barrett  at  French  Lick,  In- 
diana, last  summer." 


TRAGEDIES  171 

"Do  you  know  how  Ella  Gingles  came  to  have 
this  lace?" 

"No." 

"You  didn't  give  it  to  her?" 

"No.     I  gave  it  to  Miss  Barrett." 

Witness  then  told  of  having  seen  Ella  Gingles 
go  to  ^liss  Barrett's  room  in  the  Wellington  ho- 
tel early  last  January. 

"Miss  Barrett  sent  me  up  to  her  room  and  I 
saw  Miss  Gingles  waiting  for  somebody.  Then 
a  bellboy  gave  Ella  Gingles  Miss  Barrett's  pass- 
key and  we  both  went  into  the  room." 

Witness  did  not  know  how  Miss  Gingles  came 
to  demand  the  pass  key  of  Miss  Barrett's  room, 
but  was  sure  she  went  into  the  room  when  Miss 
Barrett  was  absent. 

Miss  Margaret  Donahue  was  then  called.  She 
is  secretary  of  the  Wellington  Hotel  Company. 

"Was  any  of  your  property  found  in  Miss  Gin- 
gles' room?"  asked  Mr.  Short. 

"Yes." 

"Is  this  the  property  you  refer  to?"  and  Mr. 
Short  waved  before  the  jury  a  pair  of  long,  black, 
silk  stockings. 

"Yes — those  are  mine.'* 

Mr.  O'Donnell  looked  at  Miss  Gingles — ^the 
latter  turned  pink  and  the  jury  gingerly  exam- 
ined the  expansive  hosiery  that  was  passed  over 
the  railing. 


172  WHITE  SLAVE 

The  strongest  part  of  Mrs.  Linderman's  testi- 
mony came  when  she  told  of  having  gone  to  the 
Wellington  hotel  February  17,  the  morning  after 
the  bathroom  episode.  She  found  Miss  Gingles 
delirious,  in  bed  under  the  care  of  a  physician. 
Attorney  Patrick  H.  O'Donnell  and  several  po- 
licemen were  there,  the  witness  declared. 

"Tell  the  condition  of  Ella  Gingles,"  com- 
manded Attorney  O'Donnell. 

"She  was  crazy,  crazy,  crazy,"  declared  Mrs. 
Linderman. 

"What  did  she  dor 

"She  lay  on  the  bed  and  screamed  at  the  top 
of  her  voice." 

"What  did  she  scream?" 

"She  kept  repeating,  *0h.  Miss  Barrett!  Don't 
let  that  devil-man  in  here  again!  Don't  let  him 
kill  me,  Miss  Barrett!  Save  me.  Miss  Barrett.'  " 

Mrs.  Linderman  also  told  of  how  Ella  Gingles, 
on  the  night  of  January  4,  following  the  first  al- 
leged attack  in  the  room  of  Miss  Barrett  at  the 
Wellington  hotel,  had  come  home  in  a  disheveled, 
hysterical  condition. 

"She  told  me  that  a  terrible  thing  had  hap- 
pened to  her  and  accused  Miss  Barrett.  But  she 
was  afraid  to  tell  me  because  she  said  that  Miss 
Barrett  had  threatened  to  kill  her  if  she  told," 
said  Mrs.  Linderman. 

Just  before  Mrs.  Linderman,  the  mother,  took 


TRAGEDIES  173 

the  stand  Tecla,  her  thirteen-year-old  daughter, 
preceded  her.  She  swore  positively  that  the 
necklace  which  Miss  Agnes  Barrett  accuses  Ella 
Gingles  of  stealing  was  a  substitute. 

She  wore  a  school  girl's  dress  of  white  muslin, 
with  an  over-yoke  of  lace.  Her  hair  was  combed 
back  from  her  forehead  and  tied  at  the  back  with 
a  white  silk  ribbon. 

The  little  girl  was  somewhat  confused  and  held 
up  her  wrong  hand  when  taking  the  oath.  Her 
testimony  follows: 

"Do  you  know  Ella  Gingles?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  she  ever  live  at  your  house?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  her  wearing  jewelry?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  saw  her  wearing  a  necklace  of  pur- 
ple beads." 

"How  long  after  she  came  to  your  house  did 
you  see  her  wearing  them?" 

"I  can't  remember  exactly." 

"Where  was  it  you  saw  her  wearing  the 
beads?" 

"She  was  in  the  kitchen." 

"You  are  sure  you  saw  her  wearing  the  beads?" 

"Yes,  sir.     I  remember  it  plainly." 

"Was  your  mother  in  the  kitchen  at  the  time?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  she  see  Ella  wearing  the  necklace?" 


174  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Yes." 

Cross-examined  by  Mr.  Short,  the  youthful 
v/itness  was  trapped  as  to  the  number  of  beads  in 
the  necklace  held  by  the  attorney. 

"How  many  beads  were  there  on  Ella's  neck- 
lace?" asked  Mr.  Stout. 

"There  were  seven." 

The  prosecuting  attorney  produced  the  neck- 
lace alleged  to  have  been  stolen  by  Miss  Gingles 
from  Miss  Barrett. 

"Is  this  the  necklace  Ella  wore?" 

"No,  sir." 

"What?" 

"I  say,  no,  sir.     It  is  a  different  necklace." 

"In  what  way?" 

"This  has  five  beads  and  Ella's  had  seven." 

Mrs.  Linderman,  mother  of  Tecla  Linderman, 
then  took  the  stand.  Her  testimony  was  sensa- 
tional. She  related  the  story  of  the  night  when 
Miss  Barrett  and  Miss  Donahue  visited  the  I^in- 
derman  home  in  La  Salle  avenue  and  ransacked 
the  room  of  the  little  lacemaker. 

Then  she  went  into  the  details  of  the  condition 
of  Miss  Gingles  after  the  happenings  at  the  Wel- 
lington hotel.  She  declared  that  the  girl  was  a 
raving  maniac  when  she  went  to  the  hotel  on  the 
afternoon  Miss  Gingles  was  found  bound  hand 
and  foot,  with  large  gashes  cut  in  her  body,  in 
the  bathroom  of  the  hostelry. 


TRAGEDIES  175 

"You  were  at  home  on  the  night  Miss  Barrett 
and  the  other  woman  called  to  see  Miss  Gingles 
at  the  LaSalle  avenue  home?"  suggested  Attor- 
ney O'Donnell. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  witness. 

"How  long  were  the  women  with  Ella  Gin- 
gles— to  the  best  of  your  knowledge?"  asked  Mr. 
O'Donnell. 

"At  least  two  hours." 

"Did  Ella  Gingles  go  away  with  the  women?" 

"Yes." 

"What  time  did  she  return?" 

"About  twelve  o'clock." 

"What  was  her  condition?" 

"She  was  crying  terribly.  Her  eyes  were  red 
and  her  hair  was  all  tumbled  down.  She  said  she 
had  been  treated  horribly.  She  said  she  couldn't 
tell  me  what  was  the  matter,  because  they  would 
kill  her  if  she  told  any  one." 

"What  else  happened?" 

"We  went  to  her  room  together  and  I  saw  that 
her  clothes  had  been  dumped  into  a  heap  and 
were  covered  with  candle  grease.  I  helped  he: 
to  clean  them." 

"Ella  Gingles  didn't  tell  you  what  they  did  to 
her?" 

"No." 

"Wasn't  your  curiosity  excited?"  asked  Judge 
Brentano. 


176  WHITE  SLAVE 

"Yes,  but  what  could  I  do?    It  was  midnight." 

Mr.  Short  then  asked  the  witness  how  she  came, 
to  go  to  the  Wellington  hotel  February  17,  fol- 
lowing  the  alleged  attack  in  the  bathroom. 

"Mr.  O'Donnell  came  to  my  house  with  a  man 
in  an  automobile,  and  told  me  Ella  Gingles  was 
being  murdered  in  the  Wellington  hotel,"  replied 
Mrs.  Linderman. 

Then  came  some  testimony  calculated  to  em- 
barrass  Attorney  O'Donnell. 

"You  went  direct  to  Ella  Gingles'  room,  didn't 
you?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"She  was  in  bed?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  Mr.  O'Donnell  was  sitting  near  the 
bed?" 

"Yes,  SU-." 

"And  Mr.  O'Donnell  had  his  arms  around 
Miss  Gingles?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  Ella  Gingles  had  her  arms  around  Mr. 
O'Donnell?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Who  went  with  you  to  the  room?" 

"Miss  Joyce." 

"Oh,  you  didn't  go  direct  to  the  Wellington 
hotel  from  your  home  to  the  Wellington  when 


TRAGEDIES  177 

you  heard  that  Ella  GIngles  was  being  mur- 
dered?" 

"No.     I  went  first  to  Mr.  O'Donnell's  office.'* 
"You  say  Ella  Gingles  was  a  raving  maniac?" 
"Yes.     She  acted  as  if  she  were  under  the  in- 
fluence of  some  dope." 

"Dope?    Where  did  you  hear  that  word?" 
"I  read  it  in  the  medical  books,"  was  the  sur- 
prising answer. 

"Did  Ella  Gingles  talk  to  Mr.  O'Donnell?" 

"Yes." 

"What  did  she  call  him?" 

"Mr.  O'Donnell." 

"Did  she  call  him  by  his  first  name?" 

"No,  sir." 

"How  long  were  you  in  this  room?" 

"An  hour,  at  least." 

"Nobody  suggested  that  she  be  sent  to  a  hos- 
pital?" 

"Did  a  physician  come?" 

"Yes." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

"Ordered  us  all  to  leave  the  room." 

"Did  all  go  out?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Do  you  remember  handling  the  cords  T^ith 
which  Ella  Gingles  was  tied?" 

"Yes." 


178  WHITE  SLAVE 

"How  did  you  know  she  had  been  tied  and  that 
those  were  the  cords?" 

"A  poHceman  told  me." 

"Were  there  any  books  in  Miss  Gingles^ 
trunk?" 

"Yes;  I  saw  several  books." 

"Don't  you  know  that  Ella  Gingles  claims  she 
never  read  but  one  book  in  her  life,  and  that  one 
of  Dickens'  novels?" 

"No;  I  don't  know  anything  about  that." 

"Did  you  know  that  Miss  Gingles  was  starv- 
ing between  January  4  and  February  16?" 

"Yes ;  I  heard  she  was  hungry." 

"Did  you  give  her  anything  to  eat?" 

"Yes ;  several  times  I  gave  her  coffee  and  toast. 
I  knew  she  had  no  money." 

"You  would  have  given  her  money  if  you  knew 
she  were  starving  in  your  home?" 

"I  had  no  money,  but  I  didn't  take  her  room 
money." 

A  sharp  clash  took  place  between  Attorney 
O'Donnell  and  Judge  Brentano  when  the  lawyer 
objected  to  one  of  Prosecutor  Short's  rapid-fire 
questions. 

"I'll  rule  it  out  if  j'ou  are  invoking  the  strict 
rules  of  evidence,  but  it  is  pretty  late  to  invoke 
them  now,"  said  Judge  Brentano. 

"I'll  invoke  the  rule  and  take  exception  to  the 
court's  remark,"  answered  the  attorney. 


TRAGEDIES  179 

"Save  your  exception,"  retorted  Judge  Bren- 
t*no. 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  O'Donnell  began 
questioning  Mrs.  Linderman  regarding  the  let- 
ter which  was  received  by  ^liss  Joyce  and  telling 
of  her  alleged  tortures  which  resulted  in  her  be- 
ing found  bound  and  gagged  in  a  Wellington 
hotel  batlii'oom. 

"I  object!  This  isn't  proper.  I'm  invoking 
the  strict  rules  now,"  said  Mr.  Short. 

"Sustained,"  said  Judge  Brentano. 

"Give  me  the  letter,  then,"  snapped  Mr. 
O'Donnell. 

"Say  please,"  replied  Mr.  Short,  holding  the 
letter  teasingly. 

"Please.  Being  attorney  for  the  Chinese,  I'll 
*kow-tow'  to  you,"  said  Mr.  O'Donnell,  solemnly 
making  the  Chinese  salutation  to  royalty. 

A  few  minutes  later  Mr.  Short  objected  again. 

"That's  only  a  self-serving  declaration,"  he  de- 
clared. 

"Who  does  it  serve?"  sarcastically  inquired  Mr. 
O'Donnell. 

"It  serves  you,"  was  the  prosecutor's  quick  re- 
tort. 

"Oh,  indict  me,  why  don't  you?"  rejoined  Mr. 
O'Donnell." 

"I  will  if  I  get  anything  on  you." 

"Yes,  and  you  probably  will  whether  you  get 


180  WHITE  SLAVE 

anything  on  me  or  not,"  said  Mr.  O'Donnell,  an- 
grily. 

"Yes — oh,  no,  I  won't,"  and  Mr.  Short  correct- 
ed himself  quickly. 

Belle  Carson,  32  Goethe  street,  was  then 
called  and  swore  that  Ella  Gingles  had  gone  to 
her  room  on  the  night  of  January  4  and  that  the 
girl  had  asked  her  about  getting  a  policeman. 

*'I  told  her  the  names  of  two  judges  I  knew.'* 

Miss  Carson  told  how  Ella  Gingles  had 
brought  some  lace  to  her  room  and  told  her  how 
Irish  lace  was  made.  Miss  Carson  at  that  time 
had  a  room  at  474  La  Salle  avenue. 

"I  went  to  Miss  Gingles'  room  and  saw  the 
laces  which  she  was  making." 

"Were  they  large  or  small?" 

"Small." 

Tom  Taggart,  the  Indiana  politician,  and  for- 
mer Democratic  national  committeeman,  ap- 
peared as  a  voluntary  witness  to  clear  his  name 
of  charges  made  in  the  defense  of  Ella  Gingles. 

Mr.  Taggart  was  treated  with  the  utmost  def- 
erence. Other  witnesses  may  have  been  "ragged" 
by  counsel  for  both  sides,  but  Taggart  was  im- 
mune from  even  being  asked  to  repeat  his  testi- 
mony or  to  give  any  explanations. 

Mr.  Taggart  told  a  straightforward  story  and 
it  consisted  mainly  in  denying  that  he  knew  Ella 
Gingles  or  that  he  had  ever  known  Agnes  Bar- 


TRAGEDIES  181 

rett  except  in  a  business  way  through  her  lace 
business  at  French  Lick  Springs,  Indiana. 

The  rest  of  his  testimony  was  given  over  to 
proving  that  he  is  an  utterly  unsophisticated  In- 
dianian,  and  when  asked  about  the  alleged  "white 
slave"  traffic  he  innocently  asked: 

"What  is  a  Vhite  slave'?" 

Mr.  Short  gave  the  definition,  without  even 
cracking  a  smile. 

When  Mr.  Taggart  had  been  enlightened  he 
declared  that  there  were  no  "white  slaves"  in  his 
hotel  in  French  Lick. 

"We  don't  let  any  bad  characters  stay  in  the 
hotel  if  we  know  them.  My  hotel  is  perfectly  re- 
spectable; it  is  patronized  by  the  best  people  in 
the  United  States,  from  Maine  to  California," 
he  declared. 

Mr.  O'Donnell  was  equally  careful  not  to 
ruffle  the  temper  or  feelings  of  the  witness.  He 
asked  a  few  perfunctory  questions  and  said, 
"That  is  all,  Mr.  Taggart." 

Mr.  Taggart,  however,  wanted  to  talk  some 
more.     Turning  to  the  court,  he  said : 

"Your  Honor,  I  came  here  as  a  voluntary  wit- 
ness." 

"Of  course  you  did,"  put  in  Mr.  Short. 

"And  I  wanted  to  vindicate  my  name.  There 
was  so  much  said  in  the  papers  when  Miss  Gin- 
gles  made  her  statement — I  just  wanted  to  come 


182  WHITE  SLAVE 

and  put  things  right,"  was  the  gist  of  the  expla- 
nation vokibly  made  by  Mr.  Taggart. 

It  developed  that  Mr.  Taggart  has  kept  two 
detectives  employed  since  the  opening  of  the  trial 
to  report  to  him  the  developments,  especially  as 
they  related  to  the  use  of  his  name  in  the  testi- 
mony. 

Dr.  H.  A.  Watson,  4358  Lake  avenue,  and 
house  physician  at  the  Wellington  hotel,  followed 
Mr.  Taggart  on  the  witness  stand. 

"On  February  17,  were  you  called  to  attend 
EUa  Gingles?" 

"I  object!"  shouted  Attorney  O'Shaughnessey. 

*'0n  what  grounds?"  asked  Judge  Brentano, 

"It  isn't  relevant  to  the  issue,"  replied  Mr. 
O'Shaughnessey. 

"If  this  case  had  been  tried  on  merely  relevant 
issues  it  would  have  been  finished  in  twenty  min- 
utes," retorted  the  court. 

"Did  you  go  to  the  bathroom  on  the  fifth  floor 
of  the  hotel?" 

"Yes." 

"What  did  you  see?" 

"The  transom  of  the  bathroom  had  been  taken 
out  and  the  door  opened  from  the  inside.  On 
the  floor  lay  a  girl.  One  knee  was  tied  and  one 
foot  fastened  to  the  foot  of  the  bathtub.  Both 
bands  were  tied." 
■    "Were  they  slip  knots?" 


TRAGEDIES  183 

"No.  Hard  knots.  The  feet  were  tied  ^dth 
cords  and  the  knee  with  a  stocking." 

"What  was  her  condition?" 

"She  was  not  unconscious.  The  pupils  of  the 
eyes  were  widely  dilated.  I  asked  her  who  her 
friends  were  and  she  asked  me  to  send  for  Cap- 
tain O'Brien." 

"What  did  she  say?" 

"She  was  crying,  as  hysterical  people  do.  She 
kept  saying,  'They  threw  pepper  in  my  eyes.'  " 

"  'I  can't  drink  any  more  wine.'  She  also  said 
she  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  O'Donnell." 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"I  examined  to  see  if  she  had  been  attacked, 
and  found  there  were  no  such  indications.  I  cut 
her  loose  and  found  she  wasn't  in  a  bad  way.  Her 
pulse  was  good  and  she  did  not  need  medicine." 

"How  about  her  wounds?" 

"They  were  scratches,  and  not  cuts." 

"When  we  took  her  to  a  room  she  kept  crying 
and  said,  'They  cut  me!  They  threw  pepper  in 
my  eyes  and  put  me  in  a  cab.'  " 

"We  object  to  this  form  of  questioning,"  said 
Mr.  Short. 

"The  objection  is  sustained.  The  court  will 
state  why.  You  are  asking  questions,  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell, on  matters  that  nobody  can  testify  to  unless 
you  take  the  stand  yourself." 

"Your  honor,"  shouted  the  Irish  lawyer,  "I 


184  WHITE  SLAVE 

don't  have  to  take  the  stand,  sir.  My  good  wife 
will  take  it." 

"Very  good;  then  proceed,"  answered  Judge 
Brentano. 

"Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  did  you  not  see  this 
girl  lying  there  on  that  bed  in  a  semi-conscious 
condition,  so  far  from  rational  that  I  was  com- 
pelled to  shake  her  to  make  her  recognize  me?" 

"I  saw  you  shake  her.  She  did  not  appear  to 
me  irrational  apart  from  the  hysteria." 

"What  position  was  Miss  Gingles  in  when  you 
found  her  in  the  bathroom?"  resumed  Mr.  Short, 
again  taking  the  witness. 

"She  was  lying  on  her  right  side  and  her  body 
stretched  from  one  end  of  the  bathtub.  Her  feet 
were  tied  to  the  iron  pipe  under  the  stationary 
bowl.  Her  hands  were  tied  to  the  iron  foot  at 
the  end  of  the  tub." 

"Did  you  know  Miss  Gingles  before?" 

"No.     I  never  saw  her  before." 

"Was  there  anything  much  the  matter  with  her 
aside  from  being  hysterical.  Did  you  see  the 
scratches  on  her  arms  and  body?" 

"Yes.  Those  scratches  were  very  superficial. 
They  did  not  more  than  penetrate  the  first  skin." 

"Did  you  see  a  liquid  in  the  bathroom?" 

"Yes.  I  thought  it  was  wine.  Also  there  was 
a  little  bottle  of  laudanum." 

"Now,  if  this  girl  had  taken  laudanum,  what 


TRAGEDIES  185 

would  have  been  the  condition  of  the  pupils  of 
her  eyes?" 

"They  would  have  been  very  much  contracted." 

By  Mr.  O'Donnell:  "And  tell  us,  had  she  a 
cut  on  the  inside  of  the  thigh,  running  crosswise?" 

"Yes,  she  had  such  a  cut." 

"There  were  many  cuts,  altogether?" 

"I  don't  recall  precisely  how  many." 

Mr.  O'Donnell  dramatically  seized  Ella  Gin- 
gles  by  the  hand,  almost  dragged  her  to  the  wit- 
ness chair,  and  then  demanded  explosively: 

"Did  you  see  this  cut,  and  this  one,  and  that 
one  and  that  one?    Did  you  really  see  any  cuts?" 

"Yes.  I  saw  several  cuts,  but  I  cannot  say 
that  these  are  the  scars  from  them." 

"Now,  how  many  cuts  did  you  find?" 

"As  I  remember  it,  there  were  several  on  the 
arms  and  one  on  the  leg." 

"Which  leg?" 

"I  do  not  recall.'* 

"Did  you  see  other  bruises  and  injuries  on  the 
girl's  body?" 

"Oh,  I  remember  generally  that  she  was  cut 
and  scratched  slightly,  but  I  did  not  regard  any 
of  the  injuries  as  serious." 

"Do  you  know  that  Ella  Gingles  had  ten 
wounds  altogether?'* 

"All  I  recall  I  have  told  you." 


186  WHITE  SLAVE 

"How  long  were  you  in  the  bathroom  with 
Ella  Gingles  before  you  untied  her?" 

"Not  more  than  a  few  minutes." 

"Now,  about  this  pink  baby  ribbon  Mr.  Short 
is  trying  to  make  out  Ella  was  tied  with.  Didn't 
you  see  me  take  it  out  of  her  nightgown?" 

"I  don't  remember." 

"Well,  I  took  it  out  of  her  neck-band  because 
^he  was  tearing  at  herself,  didn't  I?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell  that." 

"Did  you  see  me  take  the  gag  off  her?" 

"It  was  hanging  under  her  chin  when  I  first 
«aw  her,  but  I  don't  know  who  took  it  off." 

"You  remember  a  big  crowd  of  newspaper 
men  being  in  the  room,  don't  you?" 

"Many  people  were  there.  I  did  not  know 
many  of  them." 

"How  does  it  come  that  you  say  you  took  Miss 
Gingles  out  of  the  bathroom  at  eleven  p.  m.  when 
Captain  O'Brien  was  called  and  told  of  her  con- 
dition at  ten?" 

"Well,  I  understood  that  you  had  been  there 
and  gone  before  I  reached  there." 

"Was  one  of  her  arms  tied  with  a  stocking?" 
asked  Mr.  O'Donnell. 
Yes. 

"Had  she  her  own  stockings  on?" 

"No." 

"What?" 


TRAGEDIES  187 

"Well,  I  don't  recall  exactly.  I  don't  think 
she  had  them  both  on." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  were  there  not  three 
stockings  ?  Did  not  Ella  have  her  own  stockings 
on?" 

"Well,  I  won't  be  positive  about  it." 

"Was  she  brought  to  the  bed  in  the  same  con- 
dition you  took  her  from  the  bathroom?" 

"I  believe  she  was." 

"When  you  left  you  are  sure  she  had  on  a 
black  skirt?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you  are  not  sure  whether  she  had  on 
stockings  or  not?" 

"No." 

"Between  the  time  you  cut  Ella  Gingles  loose 
and  we  got  there  were  any  clothes  taken  off  or 
put  on  Ella  Gingles?" 

"Not  that  I  can  remember." 

Dr.  Watson  proved  to  have  a  bad  memory.  He 
couldn't  remember  who  took  charge  of  the  cords 
that  bound  Ella  Gingles  or  what  was  done  and 
said  after  the  girl  was  found  in  the  bathroom. 

Professor  Henry  J.  Cox  of  the  United  States 
Weather  Bureau  was  then  called  by  the  state. 

"What  kind  of  a  night  was  January  4,  1909?" 
asked  IMr.  Short. 

"It  was  cloudy,  and  at  eleven  a.  m.  the  tern- 


188  WHITE  SLAVE 

perature  was  fifty  and  at  midnight  it  was  forty- 
five." 

"Did  it  rain  that  night?'* 

"No,  sir." 

"But  there  was  a  mist,  wasn't  there?"  asked 
Mr.  O'Donnell. 

"No  such  record." 

"What  kind  of  clouds  were  there?'* 

"Low,  hanging  clouds." 

"When  did  the  sky  clear?" 

"At  four  a.  m." 

"Let  me  look  at  that  book,"  said  Mr.  O'Don- 
nell. 

"I'm  not  a — what  do  you  call  it — meterolo- 
gist?"  suggested  Mr.  Cox. 

"Read  the  meter,  Pat,"  said  Mr.  Short. 

"Here.  What's  this?  Why,  the  record  shows 
there  was  rain  that  night!"  shouted  Mr.  O'Don- 
neU. 

Mr.  Cox  looked  and  saw  the  letter  "T'*  oppo- 
site the  temperature  reading  for  nine  p.  m. 

"That  means  'trace.'  Yes,  there  was  a  trace 
of  rain  at  that  hour,"  admitted  Mr.  Cox. 

When  the  case  closed  and  the  arguments  were 
through  the  courtroom  was  filled  with  wild,  ex- 
pectant people.  It  was  a  scene  never  equaled  in 
Cook  county.  Even  the  scenes  of  confusion  in 
the  trial  of  Dora  McDonald  for  the  slaying  of 
Webster  Guerin  were  eclipsed. 


TRAGEDIES  189 

The  jury  did  not  deliberate  long.  A  few  hours 
sufficed  to  reach  a  verdict.  There  was  some  con- 
tention on  the  part  of  one  juror,  but  he  was  soon 
convinced  that  the  verdict  should  be  not  guilty. 

The  scene  when  the  verdict  was  handed  to 
Judge  Brentano  was  appalling. 

The  little  Irish  girl  standing  in  front  of  the 
bar  of  justice,  with  eyes  looking  straight  ahead 
into  those  of  the  judge;  the  auditors  standing 
breathless  awaiting  the  words  that  were  to  fall 
from  his  lips. 

When  the  court  read  from  the  slip  of  paper, 
"We,  the  jury,  find  Ella  Gingles  not  guilty," 
bedlam  broke  loose.  Men  and  women,  many  of 
them  richly  dressed,  rioted  madly.  Several  of 
the  clubwomen  and  members  of  the  Irish  Fellow- 
ship Society  ran  to  the  girl's  side  and  hugged  and 
kissed  her. 

For  several  minutes  the  court  made  no  attempt 
to  still  the  outbreak.  He,  too,  grim  and  stern, 
and  used  to  tragedies  in  the  court,  seemed  to  feel 
the  joy  fulness  of  the  occasion. 

"I'm  so  happy,"  the  little  lace-maker  told  her 
friends.  "I  was  certain  I  would  be  freed.  It 
was  a  horrible  plot  against  me,  but  with  all  my 
friends  working  for  me  I  knew  I  could  not  come 
to  any  harm." 

After  leaving  the  courtroom  the  girl  was  taken 
in  a  cab  to  the  home  of  a  wealthy  clubwoman  on 


190  WHITE  SLAVE 

the  south  side.  That  evening  hundreds  of  sup» 
porters  called  to  greet  her  and  tell  her  of  their 
joy  at  her  acquittal.  Several  of  them  joined  to- 
gether and  presented  her  with  a  small  diamond 
brooch. 

The  next  day  the  little  lace-maker  began  mak- 
ing arrangements  to  return  to  her  old  home  and 
to  her  parents,  at  Larne,  Ireland.  There  with 
her  family  she  expected  to  try  to  live  down  the 
horrors  of  her  experiences  in  Chicago. 


CkL 

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